


Keep You Like an Oath

by flyingcarpet



Category: Divergent Series - Veronica Roth
Genre: F/M, Facing Fears, Fix-It, Insurgent, Insurgent AU, Loss of Virginity, fear of intimacy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-11 22:18:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3334814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingcarpet/pseuds/flyingcarpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Promise me,” he says in a whisper, “that you won’t go. For me. Do this one thing for me.” An Insurgent AU in which Tris never turns herself over to Jeanine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story goes AU after Chapter 27 of Insurgent. A few lines of dialogue in the beginning of the story, and here and there in flashbacks, are from the book. Title from "Uma Thurman" by Fall Out Boy. All of the thanks to Isis and jandjsalmon for beta-reading, and to M for hand-holding.

_Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear -- not absence of fear. -Mark Twain_

* * *

**Tris**

I'm kissing Tobias hungrily, frantically, and I can't seem to stop even though I know I ought to. I am planning to leave him tonight, intending to walk out of here and turn myself in to Jeanine Matthews, who wants me dead. But I don't want to think about it. All I want to do is get as close as I can to Tobias, so close that I am inside him and he is inside me and there is no more room for secrets and lies and all the guilt that exists between us.

He stops for a moment and looks into my eyes. His pupils are so dark in the low light that they look nearly black. “Promise me,” he says in a whisper, “that you won’t go. For me. Do this one thing for me.”

It's tempting. I'd like to believe that I could stay here with him-- but no. The guilt comes flooding back, still so fresh and sharp, and I see Will's blank eyes in my mind, his blood on the street. 

I don't deserve this happiness. 

But if I go, Tobias-- Tobias can stay, and he can live. I will do anything to make that possible. Anything.

His eyes are begging me to stay. It hurts to lie to him, but I know that I'm doing this for his own good. “Okay.” The lie is another obstacle added to the barrier between us.

“Promise,” he says, with a frown.

“I promise," I say. 

He knows that I'm lying. I can see it in his eyes. He kisses me anyway, as if he can keep me here with only his lips. For a few minutes, he does.

His kisses are hungry and strong, full of desire. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me close, so that our bodies press tightly together, with only a thin layer of clothing between us. The fire inside him kindles a spark in my chest and I feel it grow inside me, heating my body from the inside.

I climb into his lap, sitting astride his legs so that my knees bracket his hips, and he buries his face in the curve of my neck, groaning into my hair. His breath is heated against my scalp, and it leaves me wanting more.

His body is lean and firm, his muscles tense beneath me, and I can feel him hard against my thigh. He curses against my skin, his voice rough and desperate. I feel a thrill go through me at the sound, knowing that I did this to him. 

I shift my hips to the left and suddenly our bodies are aligned, my most sensitive place pressed perfectly against him. I rock my hips, grinding down on his hardness through layers of clothing as heat spreads across every inch of my skin. He presses hot open-mouthed kisses to my neck and shoulders, anywhere he can reach. I throw back my head and gasp as my breasts press against his shoulders, and the added friction sends more sparks dancing across my nerve endings.

I am beyond want, beyond desire, beyond care. I _need_.

Words and sounds pour out of my mouth without my knowledge or permission. I'm desperate for something that I hardly recognize. Somehow, Tobias knows how to give it to me. His hands grasp my hips and dig into my skin, guiding me as I rock against him, as pleasure fans the flames inside of me. I can feel the fire growing hotter and hotter inside of me, until suddenly I am consumed. I come apart, shaking and quivering and very nearly forgetting how to breathe.

"Tris," he groans then in a rough voice, thrusting his hips up against me. My heart is thudding in my chest a little slower now, and I'm aware that my shirt is sticking to my sweaty skin, but I can see that Tobias is still caught up in his own all-consuming need. His eyes are closed and his face twists in agony, but pain has never looked like this before.

I don't know what to do, or how to help him reach completion, so I just hold him tightly and kiss him as hard as I can, trying to pour my heat and desire back into him as his hips continue to rock against mine. It must work, because a moment later he is groaning into my mouth and shuddering beneath me, his hands fisting tightly into my damp shirt and then releasing.

My hair falls down around his face as I press my forehead to his. He's breathing hard, his breath hot against my cheek. "Yeah?" he asks. 

"Yes," I say, "yes, yes," and kiss him hard. I can feel him smiling broadly against my lips, proud of himself, and in that moment I can forget about the barriers of guilt and sacrifice between us, and we are just a boy and a girl, tangled and sticky and sated.

Later, his arms hold me close under the sheets as he drifts off to sleep, but I cannot put it off any longer. The sound of Marlene's body hitting the pavement echoes in my mind and keeps me awake. 

I know what I have to do. Despite my promises, I will get out of this bed and go to Erudite. I will turn myself over to Jeanine, so he can live. 

When his muscles relax and he slips into sleep, I slide out of bed and tiptoe across the room to where I dropped my shoes earlier, but they are not there. I fumble around on the bare floor, searching blindly for my shoes and finding nothing. Finally, my fingers connect with something and I slip them on my feet. I'm turning quickly toward the door, reaching for the knob when suddenly--

"Tris?" he murmurs, sleepy-sounding at first. It only takes him a split second, though, to realize what I must be doing, and he jerks upright in bed, the sheets falling around his hips.

* * *

**Tobias**

There is a second between sleep and waking, when I am slow and stupid. Tris could run away in that second and I wouldn't be able to stop her. She's faster than me. But thankfully I'm better trained, because she's still frozen in place while I leap out of bed and race across the floor. 

"Don't go." I'm close to begging. "You promised." I hate begging, but I'll do it if I have to.

"Don't tell me what to do, Tobias." There's steel in her voice now. She's stronger than me, more determined. She always has been. Knowing this makes me desperate.

"If you go, I'll follow you there." There's no reason for me to stay here if I can't save her. "I'll walk into Erudite right after you." 

She gasps, and her face turns white, pale even in the soft glow of moonlight through the windows. "You can't," she says. "Tobias--"

A vicious sort of satisfaction spreads through me. I've surprised her, and she knows it's not an empty threat. Her choice is to stay, or see us both prisoners.

"I need you safe." 

She lets go of the doorknob and her shoulders slump. "I can't just sit here while people die," she says, sounding defeated. "I have to _do_ something. Marlene--"

"Then do something," I say harshly. "But don't go to Erudite and help Marlene's killer. Because that's what you'll be doing if you give in to Jeanine's sick demands. Helping her."

"Then what?" she demands. "Attack her, like Uriah said? We don't have the numbers. We'd be crushed in a minute. She can force half this compound to--"

She's not wrong. Jeanine could crush us if we let her. 

We can't let her. 

"Are you afraid, Tris?" I use my Four voice on her, my instructor voice. "Are you scared of Jeanine?"

"Yes, I am," she says, her chin raised in defiance and her eyes full of fire. "I've seen what she can do." 

She's daring me to deny Jeanine's power, but I won't. "Good," I say instead. "You should be afraid of her." Tris's eyes falter, confused. "But don't give in to the fear. Don't let it make your decisions for you." 

I place my hands gently on her shoulders, so she can pull away if she wants, and lean my head close to hers. "Be brave, Tris."

She collapses into me, her arms wrapping tightly around my waist, and I hold her close as she cries. Her shoulders shake and she drags in huge gulps of air like a drowning person, loud and messy. Soon, my shirt is soaking wet with her tears.

Some time later, when her breathing has slowed and her eyes are finally dry, she pulls away. 

"What are we going to do?" she asks, as if she's completely out of ideas. Maybe giving in to Jeanine's demand was the only course of action she could think of. 

"Come on," I say. Fortunately, I have a few ideas of my own. "I want to show you something."

* * *

**Tris**

I follow Tobias down a dark and empty hallway on the tenth floor of the Pire. As we walk, our footsteps echo off the bare stone walls. This we've passed through all the living quarters, and I realize with a start that I have no idea what else is in this building. I've only lived in Dauntless for a very short time, and most of it was taken up with initiation. 

We turn a corner, and Tobias stops and unlocks a small door, stepping inside and turning on the light. Inside is a desk and two chairs, a computer and a small file cabinet. It actually looks oddly like my father's office in the Hub, where he worked in the city's central government with Marcus. "It's... an office," I say, not bothering to hide my confusion. 

After everything that's happened today, Marlene's funeral and our passionate moment together and then the confrontation that followed, now he wants to catch up on paperwork?

Tobias takes one look at my expression and laughs gently. "You asked what we're going to do to take down Jeanine," he says. "We'll use our resources."

"What resources? This is an office, not a weapon."

"It's information," Tobias says. A smile plays around the corners of his mouth. "If we can figure out what Jeanine wants, why she attacked Abnegation--"

I tried to talk to him about this in Amity, when I overheard Marcus say information was stolen from our old faction during the attack. Back then, Tobias shrugged me off and said we'd deal with Jeanine's reasoning later. 

Apparently 'later' is now. For a second, I want to call him on it and demand to know why he's suddenly taking my old suggestion. But, no. Learning the truth is more important than picking a fight. And the truth is, Jeanine Matthews isn't a reckless Dauntless, jumping gleefully into a bar fight. She attacked Abnegation with a plan, a goal, an objective. Finally, Tobias agrees. 

I allow myself a small smile, my selfish reward for being right all along. "If we can find out what she wants, then we can stop her."

"Exactly."

There's a small picture frame sitting on the desk, and I pick it up. It's a picture of Max and a beautiful dark-skinned woman who looks vaguely familiar, both smiling widely. This must be Max's office.

Or it was. I watched Max die on a bridge outside Candor less than a week ago.

I set the photo down and look back at Tobias, who is watching me intently. "Max's office?" I ask, although the answer is obvious. "I don't think he can help us anymore."

"Maybe he can," Tobias says with a shrug, and he pulls open one drawer of the file cabinet. He reaches into the drawer as if he's about to pull out some files, then pauses. I can see the muscles in his shoulders tense beneath his black t-shirt. 

"I knew that Max was working with Jeanine," he says, without meeting my eyes. "I... figured it out during your initiation, but I couldn't-- I didn't know-- it was too late." His shoulders are hunched and his back is bowed and I can hear a hitch in his breath.

Tobias is not the most eloquent person I've ever met, but he's rarely flustered like this. The room is silent for a moment, and then he takes a long breath and speaks in a measured tone. "I knew that Max and Jeanine were working together, that Max was stockpiling weapons and Erudite delivered way too much serum here, but I didn't put the pieces together in time to stop them."

I think of all the guilt and the lies and the secrets that I carry with me, and I realize that I'm not the only one. Tobias has guilty secrets of his own.

"Let the guilt remind you to do better next time." I'm alluding to the conversation we had after Al's funeral, only a few weeks ago. He turns his head and looks at me out of the corner of one eye, and after a moment he nods. "There will be a next time," I tell him. "We'll have another chance to stop them." Oddly enough, I believe it. 

In answer, Tobias only reaches out and clasps my hand in his, holding tight for a full minute before letting go.

Eventually, he breaks the silence. "So, you up for a little research?" 

"I wasn't expecting research when I transferred to Dauntless," I say in a light voice, as he hands me a stack of files from Max's drawer.

"It's a rigorous training process," he says, and then flashes me a grin that sends a stab of heat through my chest and reminds me vividly of the taste of his skin.

My face flushes and I look down at the news reports in front of me. A girl like Christina or --I ache at the thought-- Marlene might know what to do in this situation, how to tease and flirt with a guy after doing... _things_ together. But my Abnegation upbringing has not prepared me for this. I can hardly even think about what we did, much less talk about it. And the sharp craving for more that I feel in the pit of my stomach is entirely foreign.

Reading. Reading meeting reports and Candor news releases, that's something I know how to do. I take a deep breath and get to work.

* * *

**Tobias**

"Whatever you're doing, I want in." This is why Zeke's my best friend. He's always got my back, no matter what.

We're sitting in the empty control room, hunched over a single computer in the back corner. We shot out all the cameras inside Dauntless when we took back our home a few days ago, but the ones in the rest of the city are still functioning. The ones at the fence, too. I wonder who watches the feeds now. No one, I guess.

"I told you, it's nothing. Some leadership bullshit." It's a lie, of course. But I have to at least try talking Zeke out of something this dangerous.

Immediately, he reaches over and smacks the back of my head lightly with an open palm. I've seen him do that to Uriah a hundred times, when he's getting out of line. "I'm in this, all right?" he says. "Now, tell me what you're really looking for."

"Anything about Jeanine," I tell him. Even though I know he'd be safer if he weren't involved, I'm grateful for his help. "War plans, the simulation. Anything linking her to Max, Eric, or the other Dauntless leadership."

Zeke lets out a low whistle. "You don't ask for much, do you?" I don't bother answering.

"Just the Dauntless archive?" It's a strange question, because that's all we should have access to. The five factions are linked together in one network, but each faction has their own security measures in place.

"Why?" I can't help but be intrigued. I know Zeke is good with computers, but is he that good? "What else can you get?"

Zeke only grins and elbows me in the ribs. "And you didn't want me on your secret agent team," he says with a grin. "Just for that, I'm gonna need a piece of cake."

"Cake." I shake my head. No Abnegation would ever demand a reward in return for helping the greater good. But Zeke is Dauntless through and through. "I'll bake you a cake myself if you can get into the Erudite network."

He laces his fingers together and stretches out his arms in front of him, then tilts his head from side to side so that his neck pops. "That'll take more time." I can't tell if he's serious or not. Could he really hack into Erudite? "For tonight, I'll take one slice of Dauntless cake and a cold glass of milk."

I shrug and stand up. If he can really do it, it's more than fair. And if he can't... Well, I'll always be a little bit selfless. I would get him a piece of cake anyway. "What are friends for?"

The Dauntless kitchens are in disarray after weeks of abandonment, but cake must've been a top priority, because there are three of them sitting in wrapped trays on the counter. I cut two generous slices and arrange them on a tray with two glasses of milk, grab forks and napkins, and head back upstairs to the control room.

By the time I get there, Zeke is plugging a small drive into his console and tapping in his last few commands. "Now, we wait," he says, a self-satisfied smile on his face. 

"And eat cake." I hand him a plate and fork.

"The mighty Four, reduced to bringing me cake," he says, propping his feet on the computer and balancing the plate precariously on his knees. "How does it feel?" 

The words are oddly similar to the ones Eric said to me during the simulation, while holding a gun to my head, but that doesn't bother me. There's a world of difference between Zeke and Eric. And after the last few weeks, eating a slice of cake with my best friend feels pretty damn good. 

"Not so bad, actually," I answer, scooping up a big forkful. "Maybe I should've volunteered to work in the kitchens instead of this place." 

Zeke snorts back a laugh. "Could you imagine? Thanks anyway, Max. Leadership's not for me, I'd rather bake all day." Nobody actually works in the kitchen full time, the staff are made up of fence guards and city patrols who are off duty, rotated in and out on a weekly basis. But the idea is pretty funny anyway.

I grin and return to my cake, and we eat in companionable silence for a few minutes. It's even better than I remembered, rich and chocolatey, and I'm even more grateful for it after seeing what the Factionless eat.

Eventually, Zeke breaks the silence. "So your real name was kind of a letdown."

"Sorry," I say dryly. We haven't talked about this at all, and it occurs to me that maybe I should've told my best friend some of my secrets before the Candor cracked open my head and poured them out for the entire city to hear. I don't have much practice at this whole friendship thing. "Tobias Eaton." I shrug. As if it's just a name. No big deal.

"I had Uriah completely convinced that your real name was Englebert Hemoglobin," he says, laughing so hard I'm afraid he might choke. He doesn't seem to care that my father is Marcus Eaton, or even that I didn't tell him about it.

"Next time I'll try to have a better deep, dark secret." 

"See that you do." He wads up his napkin and throws it at the side of my head. 

As we unplug the hard drive full of data and walk shoulder-to-shoulder back to the Pire, I feel a deep sense of calm sweep over me. Tris is safe, Zeke isn't holding a grudge, and we've got a plan to take down Jeanine together. On paper, our situation is no less grim than it was yesterday. But for me, it feels like everything is finally coming together.


	2. Chapter 2

**Tris**

I'm sitting on the cold concrete floor of Tobias's apartment, surrounded by boxes. On the other side of the room, Tobias sits at the small dining table, which is now entirely covered by the computer he brought up here in pieces and assembled earlier in the evening.

"I've learned one thing from all of this," I tell him, arching my back and trying to stretch out my cramped muscles. "Eric has surprisingly pretty handwriting." His letters are small and square and angular, a row of precise capitals marching across the page. The As are exact triangles.

Tobias chuckles. "Yeah, he did. I guess they teach it in Erudite." We're both quiet, then, and I am reminded that he killed Eric only a few days ago. How could I have forgotten that? 

I turn back to Eric's beautiful letters and precise words, and try to go through the box as quickly as I can. We're looking for anything related to Jeanine, to Erudite or the simulation attack. This folder is a roster of guard schedules, that one a combat training evaluation. I get distracted looking at proposed changes to the initiation scoring system, and when I look up, nearly an hour has passed. 

"Do you want some tea?" I ask Tobias as I walk over to the stove and put the kettle on. At this rate, it's going to be a long night. He doesn't respond. His eyes are locked on the computer screen. "Find something?"

"Listen to this," he says, his voice hushed as he begins to read. " _Combat groups Delta and Gamma will infiltrate and subdue the Abnegation compound. Group Beta will establish a perimeter and prevent any Factionless involvement. Group Alpha will proceed to the Hub and retrieve the package, then deliver it directly to J.M. at Erudite Headquarters._ " 

He looks up, eyes wide. "The package," I repeat. I can hardly breathe. He nods.

"Marcus was telling the truth!" I say, leaving the kettle and walking back to the computer where he sits. "That's the same thing I overheard him telling Johanna Reyes, in the orchard." I'm so excited that I forget how badly Tobias reacted when I first told him about this. "He said Jeanine attacked Abnegation to steal a piece of sensitive information, remember?"

"I remember," Tobias says. His mouth is twisted as though he's just bitten into a lemon.

"So this confirms that the attack was about this information! Whatever they took from the Hub was the reason for the attack!" I'm so excited, I can't stand still, not even to look at the evidence.

"It doesn't." Tobias's voice is so quiet, I can barely hear him at first. 

I shake my head, frowning. "Yes, it does. Marcus said that our leaders risked their lives to protect this information from Jeanine, and this confirms the attack was a cover for Erudite to retrieve a package for her. Now all we need--"

"There's no proof it's the same information," Tobias says, without looking at me. "We can't believe him."

I take a step back, and then another. Papers crinkle loudly under my bare feet. 

"No." I can feel my heart beating faster in my chest. Black spots start appearing in front of my eyes, but I blink them away. "You can't say that. Tobias, this is it. This is what we were looking for. This is Jeanine's motivation right in front of us. And you won't admit it just because Marcus knew?"

"I told you before -- he's an excellent liar." He crosses his arms over his chest and looks toward me, but his eyes don't connect with my own.

I'm so angry, I think I might swallow my own tongue. Tobias has not called me a little girl, like Jack Kang did, but he's dismissing my opinions in exactly the same way. His mind's already made up, and he just wants me to sit around and agree with him. Well, he picked the wrong girl for that.

"Marcus is a lot of terrible things," I spit out. "But he was the leader of our faction, and he was in a position to know if something was stolen. Now we have independent verification, and you still want to say he's lying?"

"You don't know--"

"What I know is that the truth is right in front of your face, and you're too blind to see it," I say, gesturing at the computer screen inches away from his nose. "You said we were going to do something, we were going to find out what Jeanine's hiding and hit her where it hurts. Well, let me know when you're planning to follow through on that promise, because I'm not waiting around forever."

I yank open the door so hard that it flies into the wall and storm out into the hall and down toward the Chasm without even knowing where I'm going. 

I'm halfway across the Pit before my breathing slows and my heartbeat returns to normal. Ten minutes later, I realize I left without my shoes.

* * *

**Tobias**

I can't sleep. I can't read. I can't even think right now. 

It's three o'clock in the morning and Tris is gone. After all that, she left. I screwed up and she walked out the door. But where did she go?

To Marcus? I don't think she'd do that to me. To Jeanine? The idea is so horrifying, I can't even consider it right now. I tell myself that if she's not back in forty-eight hours, I'll go after her like I promised, even if it kills me. To a friend's? If we were a normal couple, she'd go to Christina's place after a fight. We've never been normal, but I hope against hope that she's there.

I walk to the end of the living room and back, as my mind races through the possibilities. The floor is cold against my bare feet, which is good. The feeling distracts me from the image of Jeanine bending over Tris's lifeless body. Turning, I walk to the window. Is she out there? I go back across the cold floor again.

I check the time. How many hours have passed? It's less than twenty minutes, and I'm already going out of my mind.

My apartment is covered in boxes and papers, computer parts and notes and diagrams. There is nothing of Tris's, though. She hasn't even moved her things in here. If she wanted to leave, it'd be the easiest thing in the world.

Turning, I pace the apartment again. I'm driving myself crazy with worry. At my best, I'm not an easy guy to get along with, but there's no way I can win her back like this. I have to work off some of this tension so I can think.

Good thing the training room is open all hours.

I start by running around the track until I lose count of the laps, then move on to the punching bag. By the time someone finds me there, my knuckles are bleeding, my hair is soaked with sweat and I even smell bad to myself.

A flash of movement in the corner of the room catches my attention, and I spin around so fast that the heavy bag swings back and slams against my ribcage.

I recognize the sound of Zeke's voice before I can see his face. 

"Four in love," he says as he ambles closer, tossing something from one hand to the other. "Never thought I'd see the day." I try to give him my best glare, but it doesn't work on him. It never does.

"Fuck you," I say, but it's halfhearted at best. I hope he's not here to tell me that Tris is missing, presumed prisoner of Jeanine Matthews. The idea is absolutely terrifying, but I have to know the truth. I can't let fear make my decisions for me.

"Have you seen her?" I ask.

"She's staying with Christina," Zeke says. As soon as my mind takes in his words, my shoulders slump with relief. 

"Shit," I say under my breath, leaning against the punching bag for support. "I thought she'd--"

"Yeah, that's why I came to find you. She's pretty pissed off, though." 

I wipe the sweat off my forehead with one arm and then cover my eyes with my hand. "I don't even care if she's angry, just as long as she's okay." 

I have never been more serious in my life, but Zeke only grins and tosses me a muffin, falling into step beside me as we leave the training room.

My stomach grumbles loudly. "Thanks," I mutter as I tear into it. I didn't even realize how hungry I was; I'd been too worried about Tris. 

"You wanna talk about it?" he asks, as we walk side by side through the Pit and I devour the muffin.

I never talk about my problems. It's not the way I was raised. To talk about myself, ever, was an indulgence. Then again, I didn't have a great childhood. Maybe I should try doing the exact opposite of whatever my father taught me.

When we're alone in the elevator, I finally speak. "Tris thinks Marcus knows something about the Erudite attack." 

Zeke is silent, so I continue. "I think Marcus is an evil bastard."

"Maybe you're both right," Zeke says, with a shrug. "Even evil bastards know stuff sometimes." This is basically what Tris said last night, but since she was in the middle of walking out, I wasn't feeling all that receptive.

The elevator doors open and we're both quiet as we walk down the hall to my apartment. 

When I unlock the door and push it open, the place is still covered in the traitors' files. It's even more paper than I realized, at least a dozen overflowing boxes full. Having grown up in a house where nothing was ever out of place, it looks horrifying to me, but Zeke doesn't even bat an eyelash, just sits on the one arm of the couch that's free of mess.

"So, what'd he say?" Zeke asks. "About the attack?"

"He didn't tell us anything," I explain. "Tris just overheard him talking with Johanna Reyes in Amity, saying some information was stolen during the attack. He wouldn't tell Johanna what it was. Then we found attack plans that mention retrieving a 'package' from the Hub."

"He didn't tell you anything, but you still think he's lying," Zeke sums up, and I start feeling foolish. 

"Look, I think I know him pretty well," I say, getting defensive again. "He's making this up to seem important."

"Sorry to say it, but he actually is important," Zeke points out. "One of the few leaders of the whole city." I let out a breath and sit down at the table. He's right, of course. I wish he wasn't, but that won't change anything.

"Besides," Zeke continues. "If he really wanted to look important, wouldn't he have made a big deal out of it? Instead of keeping the details to himself?"

"Probably." I rest my head in my hand again. I was so sure that Marcus invented the whole thing, but in the bright light of day Zeke's logic is clear. How could I have been so wrong? I was blind, just like Tris said. "Shit."

"Don't sweat it," Zeke says with a wink. "Girls love apologies. And make-up sex." He's still laughing as he lets himself out of my apartment.

Great. Now I need to clean up, shower _and_ jerk off before I can say I'm sorry.

* * *

**Tris**

I knock on the door to Tobias's apartment and wait in the hall awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other. I slept on Christina's couch last night, and now I'm wearing her clothes. It feels as though everyone in the building can see me and know we had an argument. They probably do. The Dauntless love gossip, and it seems to move pretty quickly around here.

Tobias opens the door a moment later. "Hi," he says, opening the door and standing back.

"Hi," I answer, and step inside. I don't want to have this conversation in the hallway, and I'm sure he doesn't, either.

Inside, I look around with surprise. Last night, when we argued, the apartment was scattered with papers and computer parts, maps and boxes and weapons and clothes. Today, it's clean and cozy, the bed made and floor swept. The boxes and papers are stacked neatly in a corner. The computer is missing, and in its place the table is set for two, with a handful of candles lighting the scene with a soft glow.

It's obvious that he's set all this up to apologize, and I let out a long sigh of relief. I don't think I can fight with Tobias on top of everything else.

Taking my hand, he leads me over to the table, where we sit. He pours me a glass of something strong, but I only take one sip. I want a clear head for the conversation we're about to have.

"It's been pointed out to me that I'm a little biased when it comes to Marcus," Tobias says, and all I can do is nod. Of course he's biased. The man is his father, after all. "He's definitely an evil bastard, but that doesn't mean that he's wrong about everything."

I squeeze his fingers with mine, holding on tightly. "I know you hate him. I hate him, too," I say. There's a black rage in my chest when I think about what Marcus did to Tobias, to the man I love. "I wish we could forget about him forever. But he has information we need if we're going to stop Jeanine."

Tobias looks down at the table, at our joined hands. "You're right." He is silent for a long moment, gathering his thoughts. "I'm sorry for-- for whatever that was."

He's not going to like what I have to say next, but I can't let that stop me. "It was fear," I tell him. His head jerks up and his dark blue eyes lock onto mine. His lips part, as though he's about to speak, but I continue. "You're afraid of him, and you let it cloud your decisions."

Tobias may only have four fears, but he's still human. He was the one who told me that it's impossible to become totally fearless. Instead, we have to learn to control our fear, to be free from it. Now it's my turn to remind him.

"I'm not a coward." He tries to pull his hand away, but I won't let go.

"I know you're not. I could never think that. You're the bravest person I know." He's probably the bravest person that anyone knows, in the entire city. I slide to the edge of my chair, so our knees are touching, and put my free hand on his leg. The warmth of him steadies me. "But when it comes to Marcus, I think sometimes you forget how strong you are."

His brows are furrowed, and his beautiful mouth is twisted into an unhappy expression, but his eyes are on mine. Good. He's listening. I meet his gaze steadily, and speak as calmly as I can. "You helped me see how I was letting Jeanine win, by giving in to my fear of her. Well, it's the same with you and Marcus. When you're afraid, Marcus wins."

"But when you push that fear aside, when you are brave--" I raise my hand to touch the side of his face, leaning close so we're breathing the same air. This is what I came here to say tonight. This is what he needs to know.

"Tobias, when you are brave, he is nothing."

He is silent for a long moment. When he finally responds, his only reply is to pull me close and kiss me hard. It's a kiss so full of emotion and passion that it feels like jumping out of a train, like that instant after leaping when the wind rushes beneath me and seems to hold me up and it feels like I'm flying.

A moment later we fall to the floor together, Tobias cradling my skull with one large hand. I'm vaguely aware of our chairs crashing to the ground, of things breaking, but it's only background noise. The only thing that matters is him.

I'm on top of him, pressing him to the floor and kissing the breath out of him, and then he flips us so our positions are reversed and his weight covers me. His mouth presses against mine, his lips and tongue devour and taste me at once, his arms capture and caress me, and his body says what words cannot express. It's _yes_ and _love_ and _need_ , _pride_ and _certainty_ and _hunger_ , all in one.

My elbows and knees collide with the hard concrete as we roll across the floor. I'll have bruises tomorrow, but right now I hardly notice or care. He's above me, below me, beside me. His fingers grip my thighs and slip underneath the short skirt I'm wearing --it's Christina's but I'm never giving it back, not after this-- and shove aside my underwear, pushing into me.

We have never gone this far before, and I should be nervous or afraid or something, but all I can think is _yes, more, Tobias_. I fumble his pants open and wrap my fingers around him, holding on as he thrusts into my hand. His long fingers stroke deep inside of me, touching places I've never even imagined before, and I feel that desperate rush of need and want sweep over me, just like the other night. This time, though, I recognize it and understand what I'm craving. I know Tobias can give it to me.

"Please." My fingernails dig into the muscle of his bicep as it flexes in time with my heartbeat and his fingers slide deeper inside my body, pushing me closer and closer to the edge until I leap and fall and fly apart. He follows a moment later, shuddering and crying out my name and then collapsing on top of me in a dead weight before sliding to the floor at my side.

"Wow," I gasp, when I'm able to speak again. My heart is still racing but my muscles are limp and useless. I look up at the ceiling and try to move, but I can't.

"I love you," he says in a broken voice. "So much."

I want to say it back to him. The words are on my tongue, but I know this isn't the right time. Instead, I roll onto my side and kiss the part of him that's easiest to reach, which is his elbow.

Past his body, I can see the table we were sitting at earlier. The chairs are overturned, the dishes shattered into pieces. My drink has spilled and the liquid drips slowly off the table, spreading outward across the floor. The apartment is trashed.

My head drops back against the floor with a thud, and I let out a long laugh, my chest and stomach shaking with it. All the concern and tension I was feeling earlier is gone, and instead a weightless calm is singing through my veins. Did he make me feel this way? Is it the relief of resolving our argument? Is it the stress of the last few days catching up with me? I don't care. All I know is that we are flat on the floor, with damage and destruction all around us, and Tobias loves me.

We lie on the cold concrete beside one another for a couple of minutes, just catching our breath. Eventually, Tobias rolls up to his knees and leans over me, kissing my forehead. "I made dinner, whenever you want to eat," he says, before moving away. I hear water running in the background. 

"I hope you have more plates!" I shout, and hear him laugh in response. 

We sit on the couch to eat the dinner he prepared, which is cold by now. I wouldn't have it any other way.

After we've finished, I rest my head on his shoulder, and he wraps his arm around me. His body is warm and solid against my side, and I feel content and a little sleepy.

"Sometimes I think we could've chosen differently and ended up together anyway, in a safer place," I whisper. It's a fantasy I've never shared before, and I'm not sure why I choose this moment to reveal it. "But that isn't really possible, is it?"

"No." I tilt my head to look up at his face, and his expression is thoughtful. "I never could've stayed in that house. And the attack would have happened anyway." As ridiculous as it is, I've never thought of that. Of course Erudite would have attacked whether or not I transferred. Abnegation wouldn't have been any safer, and Tobias and I would have been defenseless without our Dauntless training. I shudder at the thought.

"It's a nice idea, though," he says with a shrug. "Being together in that life. I could've walked you to meetings, and volunteered for whatever service project you were working on, just to spend some time together." I can picture it perfectly: secret glances in the warehouse, a stolen brush of hands as we worked in tandem.

"My parents would've invited you over for dinner," I say. My eyes fill with unshed tears at the thought of them, in such an ordinary moment. It's one they'll never get to experience.

"I would have tried to impress them, even if it was selfish." I can imagine him sitting at the table, passing the plates around and answering questions. He would have called my father "sir" and my father would have been skeptical at first, but eventually he would have warmed up to him.

"They would have loved you." I think about how Tobias would've needed to ask for permission to court me, to sit in our uncomfortable living room and talk about the needs of others. "My mom was impressed with you on Visiting Day."

"She recognized me," he says, as if that explains it.

"If she did, she never said anything to me." Another secret. "She just said you were very handsome." 

"Well, obviously," he says with a grin, and kisses the top of my head.


	3. Chapter 3

**Tobias**

"Three more people tried to jump off the roof today," Zeke announces, and I cringe. I don't want Tris to hear this, since part of me is still worried she'll rush off to Jeanine when my back is turned.

"And..?" Tris sounds like she doesn't want to hear this, either.

"The guards shot them full of tranquilizers, and they're sleeping it off in lockup." Zeke sounds proud of himself, as if he had anything to do with the result, which he did not. The tranqs were Harrison's idea.

Tris smiles a broad, relieved smile, and Christina actually claps. I'm glad to hear it, too, but I'm also concerned about what Jeanine will try when she realizes her simulations aren't working. Tori, Harrison and I have increased security, but I'm sure we can't outsmart Erudite for long.

"That gives us two more days," Uriah says grimly, and I remember that he's Divergent, too. He's under every bit as much pressure to turn himself in as Tris and I are, and he just lost his girlfriend. The idea makes me want to wrap my arms around Tris and never let go, although I know she wouldn't appreciate that kind of protection.

"Let's get to work, then," Christina says, making a show of rolling up her sleeves. "I'll handle the popcorn."

She disappears into the kitchen. Tris shouts, "We can always count on you for the hard stuff," at her retreating back, and Christina laughs.

Uriah grabs a stack of paper files for himself and then hands some to Tris, and Zeke and I sit down at the two computers that are now set up on my kitchen table. I try not to think about what Tris and I did under this same table last night. It was incredibly hot-- but this train of thought is not conducive to the job at hand.

Fortunately, there's plenty of work to keep me occupied for a long time. We're all quiet, with only the sound of crunching popcorn, rustling papers, and clicking computer keys as we read. I'm trying to skim the Council meeting documents in my folder as quickly as I can, glancing over the words to see if there's anything about Abnegation concealing information, or any big disagreements between them and Erudite. Of course, the Erudite have been objecting to everything Abnegation did for several years, so there's a lot to read in any case.

After about ninety minutes of quiet, focused work from everyone, I hear a giggle. I look up in surprise and see Uriah covering his mouth with one hand. His eyes are round with surprise. 

"Something funny?" Zeke asks blandly.

Uriah snickers some more and then explains. "I'm looking in Jada's files." She was one of the five Dauntless leaders before the attack, and we're still not sure whether she turned traitor or not. "I found a folder labeled 'Personal.' There's a list in here of pros and cons-- whether or not she should leave her husband." 

We all laugh, and Christina grabs the page out of his hand. "One of the cons is his dick size," she says, laughing. Tris blushes, and I can feel my own face getting a little hot, too, but Zeke and Uriah hoot with laughter. "What happened?" Christina asks. "Did she leave him or what?"

"She did," Zeke confirms. "Nothing to do with Erudite, though."

I take a deep breath and turn back to the computer, but the few minutes of laughter and harmless gossip were actually a nice break. A little while later, Tris stands up and stretches, then goes to the kitchen and brings back a pitcher of water for everyone to share. We settle in for more reading.

Another half hour goes by, broken only by Zeke taking a bathroom break and Christina munching on popcorn. "Huh," Tris says finally, breaking the silence. 

"What?" I ask, afraid it'll be something horrible.

"Well, this probably isn't important, but did you guys know that Dauntless keeps Amity peace serum on hand?" 

"We do?" I may be a leader now, but this is news to me. "Where?"

"Sub-basement, room K," she reads from the paper in her hand.

"Save that," I say. "We should check it out later."

Tris shrugs and sets the paper aside, and we all get back to work. Everyone has a different method, but Tris, Uriah and Christina are going quickly through the paper files. There's a stack of boxes near the door that are finished, and each of them has a small number of pages at their side that might prove to be useful. Of course, most of the papers are routine documents like food orders and guard duty rosters, and personal stuff like Jada's assessment of her ex-husband -- but I'm encouraged by the number of potentially useful items. 

"Here we go," Christina says suddenly, interrupting my speculation. From the sound of her voice, I think she's got something mundane in her hand, another sub-basement inventory or something, but I'm wrong. "These are reports from the Candor News Service," she says. "It looks like Abel saved them all for years and years." 

"Great," says Zeke, and I nod. That kind of organized record-keeping strikes me as very uncharacteristic of Dauntless, but I'm glad he kept them. It helps us now.

"Hey look, Maria Glass. My mom wrote this article," Christina says, pointing to the byline with a smile. I bet she comes from a long line of Candor smart mouths. "Listen to this: Councilman Andrew Prior of Abnegation announced that following faction initiation and a suitable settling-in period for new members, a citywide meeting is to be held, with all faction members of age in attendance. He explained that an important announcement would be made by Abnegation leadership, but declined to name specific agenda items. The council discussed dates and times, and decided to hold the meeting on September twelfth, in the Candor Gathering Place."

"Next week," Uriah says. "When was that published?"

Christina flips to the front of the news report. "Three weeks before the simulation attack," she says grimly. 

We are all silent. Three weeks. Is that enough time to put together a large scale mobilization effort like the simulation attack? Probably, especially if it's Jeanine Matthews doing the organizing and she'd already laid the groundwork.

"Councilman Andrew Prior," Tris repeats. Her eyes are brimming with tears, but her voice is steely. "Whatever this was, my dad planned it."

* * *

**Tris**

The trains run right past the Hub, but we jump off several blocks away and walk quietly through the darkened alleys to get there. Tobias has seen the Dauntless traitors patrolling the city on the video feeds, and neither of us want to run into them.

A loaded gun sits snugly against the skin of my lower back, tucked under my waistband. My hands were shaking as I put it there, and I don't know if I'll be able to fire it. But when Tobias gave to me and said, "I need backup out there, Tris," I couldn't say no. Just in case, I have two knives strapped to my thigh, and one tucked into my boot.

Tobias leads the way to the loading dock area, in back of the building, but I shake my head. Before I joined Dauntless, I came here to visit my father at work a couple times, to bring his lunch or a note from my mom. Because of that, I know there's a small door on the side of the building that opens directly into an 'employees only' staircase. It should take us right up to the Faction Council offices where Marcus and my father used to work. 

Tobias pulls out his gun and clicks off the safety, the sound impossibly loud in my ears. He steps through the door and leads the way up the stairs. I follow, with my gun still in my waistband. The idea of shooting someone, of seeing their eyes empty and blood leaving their body, like Will--

A flicker of grief passes through my body so intense that it makes me stumble. I wish I could mourn him the way he deserves, but instead I push the feeling aside and try to breathe again. We have to keep moving.

Half a flight of stairs above me, Tobias is watching me with a look of concern. I shake my head and climb again. 

When we reach the eighth floor we stop and catch our breath, and I use my hands to signal the location of my dad's office. Tobias nods, and then opens the door as quietly as possible. 

The hallway is dark and silent, shafts of light streaming through open doorways. Here and there, things lay scattered on the floor, as though someone left in a hurry. We pass an overturned chair, a stack of papers strewn across a desk, a pencil broken in half on the floor. I imagine clerks and council members being dragged out by simulation-bound Dauntless, but then I remember that would have been impossible. The attack took place at night, when people were in their homes. No one was attacked here.

So who did this damage? The place should be neat and tidy, everything squared away for another day of work. 

We turn the corner to the small office my father used. It's not a fancy corner office, not any bigger than the work spaces of junior clerks and administrators nearby. Everyone was assigned the same size office regardless of their position. The plaque on the door reads simply 'Andrew Prior, Faction Council Member.'

The office is completely different from what I remember.

Shreds of torn paper litter the floor like snow. Drawers hang crookedly or lay discarded on the floor. The computer has been ripped open, its components torn out and stomped on. The shelves have been pulled off the wall, and the ceiling panels look like they've been slashed with a knife.

Tobias is saying something to me, but he's too far away for me to hear. His voice sounds like he might be under water. The lights in the building flicker, which is odd because they weren't even turned on before. 

Then his big hands are steering me out to the hall and into a chair and rubbing my back in circles, something my mother used to do when I had a bad dream. I bend at the waist and press my forehead to my knees.

"Breathe, Tris," Tobias is saying, and I realize that he's been saying it for a while now. "Just breathe, it's all right, he wasn't here, it's only stuff."

"It was his life's work," I say, as I struggle for breath. "He cared so much about the city, and the factions, and--" My eyes are brimming with tears, and I can't even sit up straight, but this shock has not left me shaking in fear. Instead, I feel anger spreading through my body, hardening my resolve. "--And it wasn't enough for Jeanine to kill him, she had to ruin everything he worked for." I raise my head and meet Tobias's dark blue eyes, only inches from my own. "I'll destroy her."

* * *

**Tobias**

We take the train to the Abnegation sector, and this time, Tris jumps first. She doesn't say a word, just expects me to follow. I can think of nothing I'd rather do.

Her spine is strong and straight as an iron rod and there's purpose in her step as we walk down the rows of identical Abnegation homes, toward the one where she grew up.

Even though we didn't find the evidence we were looking for at the Hub, it feels like we've made important progress today. For too long, Tris has been hanging on by a thread, struggling to make it through each day. I stopped her from going to Erudite, but I still worried that she would try again. 

I'm not worried anymore.

I love Tris whether she's weak or strong, victorious in the ring or bleeding on the mat. But it's undeniably good to see her strong again.

She stops at a house in the middle of the block and opens the door. All the houses in the Abnegation sector look the same, because decorating was considered an act of vanity. It also made it difficult for me to find my own home as a child. Tris has no trouble.

I follow her inside, and she shuts the door behind me. 

"My father used to bring work home sometimes," she says. "He would read reports after dinner, while my mother knitted."

I nod, and try not to compare her happy family to my own. "You think he might have left some of his work things here?"

"Probably not," she admits. "But it's worth looking. You take the downstairs, I'll look upstairs?"

"Sure." And because those insistent eyes have always been irresistible to me, I lean forward and press a long kiss to her mouth, sucking lightly on her bottom lip. Then I step away.

She looks up at me, lips parted slightly and eyes wide with surprise, and I want nothing more than to dive back into that kiss and stay there for days. Instead, I give her a wink and move to check the kitchen.

Searching the downstairs doesn't take much time. All Abnegation homes are simple by design, and the furniture varies little from one to the next. This house should be exactly the same as the one I grew up in, but somehow it feels different. Marcus's living space was cold and sterile and ruthlessly neat, not a single scrap out of place. Although the Priors' house is simple and clean, it still looks like people actually lived here, people who loved each other. In the living room, there's a knitting basket sitting on the floor, a half-finished scarf tucked neatly inside. Simple curtains frame the front window, and a basket of forks and spoons sits on the dining table.

I check the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen, the simple shelves in the dining area, inside the fridge and oven, and don't find anything. The living room turns up a couple of newspapers and a book of Abnegation philosophy. I check beneath the couch and under the cushions, and I'm about to go when I realize that there's a flat folder beneath the knitting basket. Eureka.

There's not much in the folder, just a few articles and one thick report, but at least it's something. I put it together with the newspapers and book I found earlier, and head upstairs to find Tris.

Upstairs, this house is a little bit different than my childhood home, because it has three bedrooms instead of two. The first room is perfectly neat, with a gray bedspread and simple desk, but I notice a stack of books on the desk and more on top of the dresser. Caleb. The next room has a double bed and, surprisingly, a framed photo of the marsh north of the city. I linger for a moment, looking at the picture. It's beautiful, the tall green grass and bright blue sky stretching out into the far distance. But it's a strange thing to see in an Abnegation house, something with no useful purpose other than beauty.

The third door off the hall leads to another small bedroom, and that's where I find Tris. The room is nearly identical to her brother's, with a plain gray bedspread and simple dresser. There's a small desk with a couple of books and a jar of pencils on it. Nothing special, but then that's Abnegation.

Tris is sitting on the edge of the narrow bed, looking out the window at the row of identical houses. "I found a few papers downstairs, but not much," I say, mostly to let her know I'm there.

"Same," she says, as she turns her head and looks at me over her shoulder. The light from the setting sun reflects off her blonde hair.

"You okay?" I ask, sitting down beside her. She seems fine, strong and determined after this morning's anger at Jeanine, but searching through your dead family's things would be hard for anyone.

Her eyes find mine, gray-blue like the twilit sky behind her, and I feel like she can see right through me. "You're here with me," she says simply. "So I'm fine."

I wrap one arm around her waist and tug her close. We sit together for a few minutes as she leans on me, and I help her carry her burden. Outside, the sky is painted with soft shades of orange and yellow and blue.

Eventually, she breaks the silence between us by saying, "Thank you." She tilts her head back so she can kiss me. It's gentle and sweet at first, but the kiss heats up quickly. I may never get enough of kissing Tris, and every touch of her lips makes me hungry for more.

Her hands slip under the hem of my shirt and trace the muscles on my back, and I can tell she's thinking of my tattoos. I've seen her looking at them before, seen her watching me. I can't help the thrill that runs through me in response.

I lean down and press kisses along the line of ravens that decorate her collarbone. Her skin tastes salty and sweet under my tongue. Pulling the strap of her tank top back with one hand, I kiss beneath the edge of it, down to the soft skin at the top of her breast. I've dreamt about this so many times, I can hardly believe it's real now.

She lets out a soft moan, and I take that as encouragement. I raise the hem of her tank top up, exposing her bra, and tease through the lacy fabric with my tongue. Her nipples pebble up beneath my mouth, and I hum against her skin. Tris may think her breasts are too small, but they're the perfect size for my mouth and I love them.

A second later, she whips the tank top off over her head. "Now yours," she says, breathless. "It's only fair." 

My shirt hits the ground a second later.

We tip over together, so that we are tangled together on the bed. I wrap my arms around her, luxuriating in the feel of her soft skin against my bare arms. She threads her fingers through my hair, which I've finally been growing longer in the Dauntless style. It's long enough now that she can grasp it in her fingers and pull, which sends a shock of pleasure through my system.

The desperation of our last encounter is gone, but we kiss steadily, hungrily. For once we are totally alone, with all the time in the world, and in a bed. This is a small miracle by itself.

I kiss my way up Tris's neck until I get to her ear, then take the soft skin of her earlobe and worry it between my teeth. Zeke said girls love this, and I was skeptical, but sure enough she cries out and bucks her hips against my rapidly-hardening erection. I moan into her ear and she gasps in response, then pulls away.

I'm afraid she'll tell me to stop, but instead her eyes darken and she reaches for my waistband. "Can I see?" she asks softly. I suck in a breath, and then nod. She's already witnessed my deepest fears; what more is there to hold back? But it still seems significant. 

She unzips my jeans and I push them down and kick them away, and then I'm lying beside her wearing nothing but ink.

"Now yours," I repeat back her words from a few minutes ago. "It's only fair." 

Tris bites her lip and looks down at my cock through lowered lashes, as if she's considering my offer. Finally she nods, and reaches to unfasten her jeans and slip them off. I watch as she wiggles around, entranced. It is the first time I've seen her naked -- the first time I've seen any woman naked, except in the initiate showers, where I politely averted my eyes.

My cock stands away from my body, and she reaches out with one hand, hesitates for a moment, and then traces two fingers down the length of it. "How do I..."

I shake my head. "You first." I may not have a lot of experience with girls, but the Dauntless locker rooms have taught me that much.

Tris wraps her small hand around me anyway, sliding it up and down the hard shaft. The motion is tentative and uncertain, but the feeling sends jolts of pleasure coursing through my body. I try to brush her away, but she doesn't stop moving her hand, and I think maybe I'm not the only one who's learned something from the locker rooms. "How about... Together?"

"Together." 

I prop my head up on one hand, so that I can watch our bodies as we curl together. Tris's skin is smooth and soft, and it feels warm against my fingers. I let my hand drift down over her abdomen, around the gentle curve of her hip and along the crease of her thigh, until my fingers slip between her legs and trace circles around her clit. 

Glancing at her face, I can see that Tris is watching too, her bright eyes intent on the way my erection slips through the circle of her fingers. The passion in her eyes has always been my undoing, and the thought of all that fire aimed at me is incredibly hot.

Gently at first, then a little firmer, I press circles into her flesh and she rewards me with soft little moans. The sound of it goes straight to my cock. Her skin is flushed, nipples stained a dusky red. I duck my head and kiss the tip of one, then draw the soft skin into my mouth. Her skin puckers beneath my tongue, creating a delicious friction between us.

"Tobias -- please," she pleads, and I smile as I slip two fingers inside, where she is hot and slippery and so, so ready for me. Her inner muscles grip my fingers tightly, mirroring the way her own hand fits around my cock, and all of a sudden that pressure, combined with even the idea that part of me is inside her --- it's too much.

"Tris, stop," I gasp out, pulling my hand away and gripping the sheets instead. "I need a minute."

"Did I-- is something wrong?" she asks, shrinking back from me. 

"No," I say, gritting my teeth and reciting the Dauntless manifesto in my head. "Give me a minute." I try to take deep breaths but all I can smell is her -- the scent of her hair and her sweat and the thick scent of sex. It does nothing to calm me down. 

I can tell when she gets it, because she giggles abruptly. A second later, I feel her small fingers on my hand, and she's pressing it back between her legs. "Together," she whispers again.

She kisses me then, her mouth open on mine. Her tongue slides into my mouth as her hand strokes me and her body wraps around me as my fingers slip inside of her. Soon I am shaking and shuddering out my completion, spilling over her fingers and moaning into her mouth. 

After that, Tris grinds her clit down onto the heel of my hand, and I do my best to give her the resistance she needs. When she comes, I can feel every muscle inside her body flexing and releasing, squeezing around my fingers. She arches her back and squeezes her eyes shut and her hair is spread across the pillow in a tangled mess. 

She has never been more beautiful.

Once we've both cleaned up a little, I wrap my arm around her and she cuddles into my side. We're both still naked, our bare skin warming the blanket beneath us. I feel untroubled and free -- as though our clothes were one more thing pushing us apart, and without them we are closer than ever.

"It was strange doing that here," she says, her eyes darting around the room before returning to me. "Like I'm still in school or something." I know what she means. This is her parents' house, the place where she grew up. And more than that -- it is Abnegation, where no one touches casually.

Earlier, she told me she wondered about what would've happened if we'd both stayed in this faction. "If we were both in Abnegation," I say, "we might have gotten to hand holding by now." 

She laces her fingers through mine. "Like this?"

I kiss the back of her thumb. "Something like this."


	4. Chapter 4

**Tris**

I'm in a familiar position, sitting on Tobias's floor with papers spread out all around me in a starburst pattern. 

There's a knock at the door and Christina enters, covering her eyes with one hand. "Everybody decent?" Before I can answer, she parts two of her fingers and peeks through. "Damn," she says, looking around and finding me dressed. 

I shake my head, amused. It feels like a long time ago that I was scandalized by two initiates kissing in the Dauntless cafeteria. 

"I'm just looking at our finds again," I tell her, and she crosses the room, carefully picking her way through the papers so as not to disturb anything, and crouches behind me. 

"Supplies delivered from Erudite, battle plans, corrupt Dauntless leadership, public disagreements with Jeanine, the secret package, and Abnegation's announcement," she says, neatly summarizing the six groups I've sorted the documents into. She hooks her chin over my shoulder and I can feel her face moving as she talks. "Turns out Jeanine is a pretty disagreeable person. That pile's six times the size of the others."

"Seriously," I agree, as she stands up and makes her way to a chair nearby. "And those are all news articles, so all of that was public knowledge. At least Dauntless was a mess in private."

"Nuh uh." Christina's shaking her head. "That's worse. A true friend stabs you in the front." 

"Sounds like a Candor saying," Tobias says, walking out of the kitchen area with a big bowl of popcorn.

"Yep," she says, popping the 'p.' "But it sounds kinda Dauntless too, doesn't it? With the stabbing?" She mimes a knife motion with one hand.

"It does," Tobias agrees, cocking one eyebrow at me. "Find anything?"

The door opens and Zeke and Uriah walk in, carrying a tray of muffins from the dining hall. "Tonight, we feast!" Uriah announces, setting them down on the kitchen counter.

I greet them and then turn back to Tobias. "I haven't found much," I say. "A lot of this confirms what we already knew -- or suspected. Three of the five former Dauntless leaders were definitely with Erudite, and I can't really tell about the others. Jeanine shipped a lot of supplies over here: serums, transmitters, weapons, but also stuff like food and blankets."

"Also, she fought with everyone in Faction Council meetings," Christina adds. "Not only Abnegation, everyone."

"We know that my father and the Abnegation leaders were planning a big announcement after initiation," I say. "And we know that some kind of information was stolen from Abnegation during the attack. But we don't know the subject of the announcement or the information."

"They've got to be one and the same," Zeke says, and we all nod. 

"Probably, but there's no proof of that," Christina points out, and we all sit glumly for a few seconds.

"So where do we go from here?" Uriah asks. "What's our next step?"

I know where we need to go, but it won't be a popular suggestion. "To attack Jeanine where it really hurts, we need to know what the announcement and the stolen information were about." I keep my voice as level as I can. "And there are only two living people that know." Tobias watches me steadily from across the room, his blue eyes very bright. He knows what I'm doing.

"Then we talk to one of them," Christina says, and Zeke and Uriah nod. Tobias is still quiet.

"What's the catch?" Zeke looks from me to Tobias and back. "Who are they?"

"The only people that know the announcement," I say, and take a deep breath. "Are Jeanine herself -- and Marcus Eaton."

Everyone is silent.

"What about Jada?" Christina finally asks. "She was in on the attack planning, but she's not loyal to Erudite, right?"

"Maybe, maybe not," I say. "She could just be really good at covering her tracks." There's a somewhat suspicious lack of evidence either way in Jada's files.

"But in any case, no one's seen Jada since the attack," Zeke points out. "She's either dead or on the run somewhere. No way we could find her and get her to tell us what she knows."

"She probably wouldn't know what the announcement was anyway," Tobias says, and I jerk my head around to look at him. "It was only the Abnegation leadership who knew that." He raises his eyes to look at me. "I hate to say it, but we need to talk to Marcus."

"I'll go," I offer quickly. I do not want Tobias to be forced into confronting that monster. Marcus has hurt him enough already.

"No," answers Tobias. "You don't know how his mind works. He'll manipulate you into a dangerous situation and then leave you to take the fall." He sits up straighter and draws in a deep breath. "I'll talk to him."

"Didn't you kind of beat the shit out of him the last time you talked?" Zeke asks, making air quotes around the word 'talked.' "I doubt he's going to just hand over this huge secret."

Tobias frowns, but doesn't answer. Zeke is right. Tobias publicly humiliated Marcus by beating him with a belt in front of half the city. It was only what Marcus deserved, but it won't motivate him to help us. And I know that simply asking him won't work. I've already tried it, back in Amity, and he refused. So what's left?

"Could we threaten him?" Uriah asks. It's clear that he's only half joking. "Blackmail?"

"Take him back to Candor and make him sit through that truth serum interrogation." Christina's voice is laced with bitterness. I think about my own experience with truth serum and shudder. It was no picnic for Christina, either.

"Because Jack Kang loves Dauntless right now and would be happy to do us a favor," points out Zeke sarcastically, and we are quiet again. 

"We could bribe him," Uriah suggests. "With Dauntless cake." He's grinning now, throwing out absurd ideas.

"Living in Abnegation for all those years, he's gotta be starved for good food," Christina says, looking at me. I know she's remembering the first day of initiation, when I had never even tried a hamburger.

"I did transfer for the food," I say, and she gives me a wide smile.

"Marcus is the master manipulator, right, Four?" Uriah asks, and I wonder what nonsense he'll suggest this time. "Maybe we can manipulate him right back."

Zeke reaches out to smack him on the back of the head with one hand, but Uriah ducks out of the way, laughing. "Trick him how, Pansycake?"

Christina is leaning forward, her elbows resting on her knees and an intent look on her face. "Everyone has a weakness," she says. "Even Marcus Eaton."

I'm not sure if this is a brilliant idea or a terrible one. I glance at Tobias; he's looking down at the floor, hands clasped tightly in front of him. We all wait to see how he will respond.

Slowly, he speaks. "Pride."

That's all he says. It is enough.

Together, we begin to make a plan.

* * *

**Tobias**

After everyone else has gone, I lock the door and turn out the lights. With only the moonlight and my memory of the space to guide me, I cross the room and slip into bed. Tris is already there, waiting for me. She curls into my side and I feel her fingers trace the design of flames tattooed on my ribcage.

She sleeps here now, _lives_ here now, in what used to be my apartment alone. There are plenty of other places available, lots of vacant apartments in the Pire now that half of Dauntless has abandoned it. I like sharing my space with her, though; like that she has chosen to stay here when she has lots of other options. 

I think that I would like it even more if we could find a new place, together. A bigger apartment in the Pire, or even an empty house somewhere nearby. A place we could pick out and fix up, that could truly belong to both of us. 

"I know this must be strange for you," she whispers. Her head is pillowed on my chest, and I can feel her voice vibrating through my torso. For a moment, I think she's referring to her presence in my bed, and I frown. "With your parents and all." 

It's a bizarre relief to know that she's only talking about my fucked-up family life. 

"Not really," I answer honestly. "My parents... I'm used to them by now, I guess." I've never known anything else.

She hums low in her throat, not agreeing or disagreeing. 

"It was strange the other day, being in the Abnegation sector," I say, running one hand over her smooth, short hair. "It was almost like you said before, as if we'd both chosen to stay."

"Bad strange?" There's a strangled sound in her voice.

I remember the way it felt to be pressed up against her skin to skin, nothing between us but darkness and heat. 

"There were good parts and bad parts," I say. "The good parts were all you." She smiles against my skin, a beautiful feeling.

"And the bad?" It's a question she doesn't want answered, but being Dauntless, she asks anyway.

"Abnegation." I practically spit out the word.

She is silent, waiting for me to explain. I know she sees life there differently than I do, that she had a totally different experience. I'm glad for her, but it doesn't change what I went through.

"When my mother died," I say slowly, feeling my way around the edges of this ugly story. Like so many things I share with Tris, I've never told this to anyone before. "You went to the funeral, right?"

"Yes."

"I didn't realize it for a long time," I say. "But since she wasn't actually dead, there couldn't have been a body."

Tris is silent for a long moment, but I know exactly when she understands what I am saying. Her body stiffens in my arms and she lets out a soft gasp. 

"So the whole thing was fake?" she asks. "And everyone knew?"

"Obviously not everyone," I answer. "But the faction leaders, the medical staff, the chaplains. They had to know. Every one of them lied and told me my mother was dead, all so Marcus could save face."

I can hear her breathing, and I wrap my arms around her ribcage so I can feel it, too. "I... I had no idea," she says finally. "That's terrible."

"It's not your fault." I run my hand over her hair, combing through the strands with my fingertips. 

"I should have realized," she says, and I can hear the Erudite curiosity in her voice, her analytical nature taking over. "I met her, and she's obviously alive."

I want her to know this, but I really don't want to talk about it. "It was a long time ago," I tell her. "But I'm glad I didn't stay there. You and me-- we're meant for Dauntless." I may have been born for Abnegation once, and strive for the virtues of all five factions, but deep down I know this is where I belong now. Here, or nowhere.

"Are you -- will you be okay with this plan?" Tris asks. I can hear the concern in her voice. She doesn't elaborate, but I know what she means.

"It's the best idea we've got," I reply, which doesn't really answer the question. "We've tried everything else we can think of to figure out what Jeanine is up to, but..."

"Yeah," she says. 

"The only way is through Marcus," I finish. "I'm not thrilled, but I can do it."

"Are you sure?" she asks, lifting her head up so she can look me in the eye. The moonlight streaming through the window is weak, but I can make out the contours of her face.

"As long as you're with me, I'll be fine," I tell her, and her smile flashes bright in the pale light.

Tris was right when she said that the idea of confronting Marcus scares me. I've been through my fear landscape enough times to know it's true. But fear is only a starting point. I won't be truly Dauntless until I can face my fears, and learn to resist and master them.

She rests her head on my chest once again, and I pull her close and kiss the top of her head. I open my mouth to tell her how much she means to me, but she speaks first.

"I love you."

It's the first time I've heard her say those words. I already knew how she felt about me, but I can still feel my heart jump at the sound.

"I love you," she says again, fiercely this time. "And I know we can do this."

I hope she's right.

* * *

**Tris**

"So this is what a Stiff house looks like, huh?" Christina asks, stepping through the door of my parents' home. 

Uriah bumps my shoulder with his and I smile at him, to show I'm not offended. "It's plain," he says, stepping inside. "But I think it's still nicer than my mom's apartment in Dauntless."

"The Abnegation are selfless on an individual level," Tobias says. "Not necessarily as a faction." 

I've never thought of it this way before, but I'm not surprised that he has. The more I learn about Tobias's childhood with Marcus, the more I realize that he saw an entirely different side of Abnegation than I did.

Zeke must realize it too, because he slaps Tobias on the shoulder before he moves toward the kitchen. "Let's get to work, guys. We don't have all day."

We are all carrying bags of food, and I set mine on the kitchen counter next to the others. Then I open up the cabinet where my mother kept the cleaning supplies, and begin handing them out.

I can remember what my parents looked like in this house, can picture them sitting at the table and eating dinner. It's still hard to think about my parents, but the fresh pain of their loss has faded a little bit. Raising one hand to my collarbone, I touch the ravens tattooed there. 

Christina shoves a white tablecloth into my hands. "Time to set the table," she says, rough but not unkind.

Between us, we spread the linen cloth over my parents' simple table, then arrange the plates and napkins, cups and plates and forks accordingly. Zeke and Tobias are sweeping and straightening the house, cleaning and polishing so that everything looks perfect. Meanwhile, mouth-watering aromas drift from the kitchen, where Uriah is cooking up a storm. I can smell roast chicken and vegetables, as well as the unmistakable earthy aroma of fresh-baked bread. 

"Who knew Uriah could cook?" Christina asks, in a low voice. 

"Not me," I said. "But everything smells amazing. I can't wait to try it."

"Save me some," she says, and I think I can detect a little gleam in her eye as she glances toward the kitchen. 

It's been a long time since I've felt comfortable teasing Christina about a boy. Since Will. But maybe that pain has faded a little bit, too, because I decide to go for it anyway. "I bet he'd give you a private demonstration, if you ask."

She winks at me. "Sounds like a good idea."

We go upstairs to get ready, Christina following close behind me. Normally, she's the expert on fashion and makeup, but I don't need that kind of help tonight. 

As I noticed the other day, the closet in my old room is nearly bare. My parents donated my old clothes to the needy soon after I left for Dauntless. 

"I'm surprised they left the bed," Christina says. I don't trust myself to say anything, so I shrug and turn away. Hopefully she doesn't notice how red my face is. The things Tobias and I do together, the way I feel with his hands on me, the sight of him naked... It's all so new and fragile that I'm not ready to talk about it with Christina. 

"There will be clothes in my mom's closet," I say, and lead her across the hall.

It takes some hunting, but I finally pull out a soft gray dress and lay it across the bed. Christina finds a long cardigan in a darker charcoal gray. 

I pull off my tight black jeans and shirt and pull on the dress, which hangs loosely on my narrow frame. The neckline is so large that it falls to the side, exposing one bony shoulder.

Shrugging, I go to pull the dress off again, but Christina stops me. "I can work with this," she says. I give her a skeptical look, but she just smiles. "I like a challenge, okay?"

She does something with safety pins and shoelaces and a tiny sewing kit, and a few minutes later the dress is hugging my ribcage and I'm slipping on the cardigan. Christina takes my father's longest belt and wraps it around my hips twice, then tugs on the dress here and there. 

"No makeup?" she asks, as though I'm committing some kind of crime against fashion, which I suppose I am. Her familiar brown eyes look so hopeful that I can't bring myself to say no. 

"Just a little mascara," I say, and she looks thrilled at the admission. 

After she's done, she stands back and inspects me as if I'm a cow at the Amity agricultural fair. "Not bad, if I say so myself," she announces. "Are there any mirrors in here?"

"One," I say, nodding. 

I lead her out into the hallway, and slide open the panel that hides the mirror there. I can remember the last time my mother cut my hair here, the way she stood behind me and smiled, our gazes meeting in the reflection. My eyes fill with tears at the memory, and I try to blink them away.

"It's not that bad, is it?" Christina asks, making a joke, but she squeezes my shoulder with one hand anyway. We have both lost people close to us. 

We stand like that for more than a minute before I am able to look at my reflection.

My mother's pale gray dress hugs my ribcage, emphasizing my narrow waist and the small curve of my hips. The neckline is high but wide, echoing the shape of my collarbone, and somehow looks modest and stylish at the same time. The skirt falls in soft folds to my calves. Below the hem, I can see my sturdy black Dauntless boots. Over the top of the dress, the dark gray cardigan drapes smoothly, anchored in place by the double loop of my father's wide gray belt. 

The outfit is a perfect mix of Abnegation gray and Dauntless black, with a touch of sleek Erudite style and Candor flash. I look... grown up. Capable. Womanly. Pretty.

"Christina..." I say, unable to put my thanks into words. "This-- I-- How did you even...?"

She smiles at the mirror, meeting my eyes in the reflection. "Go get him, Tiger," she whispers.

* * *

**Tobias**

The loaf of bread is cooling on the counter and the chicken and vegetables are warming in the oven when Zeke, Uriah and Christina slip upstairs. I barely have time to turn to Tris and say, "You look beautiful," before there is a knock at the door. 

She squeezes my hand in hers and then walks across the room to answer the door. It's something of a surreal experience, watching her in this house, dressed in Abnegation gray. Even her movements are different, her posture stooped and her steps smaller, every motion just a little diminished. 

Tris opens the door, and Marcus is standing there on the doorstep. For a moment, he looks uncertain. I lived with him for sixteen years, and I can't remember ever seeing this expression on his face before. But then his features harden into their usual calculating resolve, and I can breathe easier.

"Miss Prior," he says, with a slight nod.

"Mr. Eaton," Tris murmurs, gesturing smoothly toward the living room with one arm. "Please come in. I'm so glad you were able to join us today." She is calm, subservient, with all of her attention on Marcus. She looks like the perfect Abnegation girl, the polar opposite of the brave, fiery girl I fell in love with.

It's weird. 

"Tobias," Marcus says, turning to acknowledge me as Tris takes his coat.

When I don't respond right away, Tris glares at me. Sparks practically fly out of her eyes, and I can hear her voice in my head saying _When you are brave, he is nothing._ There. That's my girl. Relieved, I take a breath and straighten my shoulders. 

"Hello, sir," I say. I can't achieve the perfect blandness of Tris's tone, but at least my voice is quiet and does not waver.

"You wanted to talk to me?" he asks.

"Yes," I say simply. "Would you like to sit down? You must be hungry." I have no idea where Marcus has been living, or what he's been finding to eat, but I'm sure he hasn't had a home-cooked meal in a while. He's not welcome in Amity or Dauntless, he left Candor in disgrace, and he wouldn't go to Erudite. So he must be living on his own.

Tris disappears into the kitchen, and I lead Marcus toward the table and give the explanation that we rehearsed. "It has been hard for Beatrice, losing both her parents so suddenly," I say in a low voice, as if I'm trying to protect her. Calling her Beatrice might be the strangest part of all of this, but it seems to make sense in this environment. "She wants to observe the old traditions, as a way to honor their memory."

Marcus frowns at me, his voice taking on the disapproving tone that I know so well. "Don't you think this is all a bit sudden?" In Abnegation, we would have spent months getting to know one another over community service projects and young people's socials, sharing hard work and awkward conversation, before we could move on to courting. And in order to begin courting, we would need our parents' blessing.

"It has happened quickly," I say, agreeing with him, letting him be right to feed his pride. "But with things as they are, we don't want to waste time." I pull a chair out from the table and gesture for him to sit, keeping my eyes cast down. I don't bother to tell him that in Dauntless, people fall in and out of relationships much more quickly than they do in Abnegation. 

He makes a skeptical noise in his throat and looks away, but doesn't try to argue. I circle around to the other side of the table, waiting for him to sit. 

"So this is a... courtship dinner?" he asks, disbelief heavy in his tone.

The last time I saw my father, I beat him brutally with a belt in front of hundreds of people. And now I'm asking for his blessing. It's no wonder that he's disconcerted. 

Taking a deep breath, I squeeze my hands into fists and then let them go. _Be brave_ , I tell myself.

"Please, sit." I motion to the chair in front of him as I pull out my own. "For Beatrice's sake, if not mine."

This approach actually works. My father may be a violent hypocrite, but he's still Abnegation, and he'll sit for another's sake when he would never do it for himself.

As he takes his chair, Tris enters the room with a pitcher of water and a basket of fresh bread. Her timing is so perfect that I know she must've been listening at the door. 

"Mr. Eaton," she says. She looks nearly as nervous as I am. "Would you like some bread?"

"Thank you, Beatrice," he says, helping himself to a slice from the basket. "May I call you Beatrice?"

"Of course," she says, dropping her eyes demurely as if she's embarrassed to talk about herself. I hate seeing her like this. A cold shiver of wrongness creeps down my spine, but I try not to let it show on my face.

Marcus passes me the bread basket, with an approving smile. I want to punch him, but I have bigger plans. Uriah sprinkled fresh pepper over the crust of one loaf, and I carefully select one of the few slices free of the black flecks.

A dish of butter sits in the middle of the table, and I spread some over my slice of bread and take a bite. Marcus does the same, but I notice that he doesn't eat the food until I do. 

I pour a glass of water for my father first, serving others before myself in the Abnegation way. Again, Marcus waits until I drink from the same pitcher before putting the glass to his lips.

He's clever, but not clever enough. He hasn't noticed the two types of bread.

Tris brings in a platter with the roast chicken on it, surrounded by carrots and potatoes. It looks delicious, especially after weeks of eating mostly canned and scrounged food. With the city's infrastructure in tatters, it's hard to get regular shipments from Amity. If Marcus has been living on his own, I can only imagine what this meal must look like to him.

"That's a lot of food for three people," Marcus comments, the corners of his mouth turned down.

Right, of course. It's not a delicious feast to him; it's a self-indulgent waste of resources.

The real truth is that there are three more hungry people hiding upstairs who want to eat the leftovers. Fucking Uriah had to make enough for everyone.

"My mother believed in leftovers," Tris says, with a quaver in her voice that doesn't sound forced. "That way, my father would always have a little dish of something to take for lunch, instead of just a sandwich."

This seems to win him over. He takes another bite of bread, and I breathe a sigh of relief. 

We serve each other from the large platter, and eat quietly. Tris is still playing the part of the self-effacing Abnegation girl, and I am still disgusted by it. Marcus asks occasional questions about Tris and our relationship, which I suppose is good. He's buying into the pretense for this dinner, at least. 

I'd rather keep ten miles between Marcus and Tris at all times, but I won't get that wish today. At least Tris can take care of herself.

Gradually, Marcus's shoulders begin to lose their stiffness, and his eyelids begin to droop. 

"This chicken is so good," he says, his words slow and a little slurred as he reaches for another helping.

"I'm glad you like it," Tris says smoothly. "More bread?"

He pulls a piece out of the basket, and I catch Tris's eye. She gives a tiny shake of her head, and glances pointedly toward the bread in his hand. The message is clear. Wait. 

Patience has never been my strong suit. 

As the seconds drag by, I clench my fingers under the table, pressing my fists against my knees to keep from shouting. Although Uriah did an amazing job preparing the food, it all tastes like ash in my mouth. 

Gulping down my cup of water, I stand and grab the pitcher off the table. "I'll refill this," I say, and escape to the kitchen without waiting for a response. 

It doesn't help. In fact, it's even worse, because now Tris is alone with Marcus in the dining room. If he hurts her, it will be two of my worst fears come to life, all at once. 

I set the pitcher in the sink and turn on the tap, watching with unseeing eyes as the water level rises slowly. I tell myself that I can do this. It's only a meal. _Be brave, Tobias_ , I can hear Tris saying in my mind. _When you are brave, he is nothing._

The water is overflowing by the time I come out of my daze, pouring out of the top of the pitcher and spiraling away down the drain. I jump to turn it off, and then have to search the kitchen for some kind of rag or towel to dry it with before I can bring it back to the table. 

When I step back into the dining room, I see something I've never seen before.

Marcus is smiling. Not the tight, polite smile reserved for the Faction Council, or the smug, self-satisfied smile of personal triumph, but a lazy, loopy smile with soft lips and lax muscles. I think I might even see a dimple. 

Is this what I look like when I'm drunk? Quite possibly. The thought makes me want to laugh.

Tris, however, looks incredibly annoyed. 

As soon as I'm back in the room, and without waiting another second, she launches into our list of questions. 

"Mr. Eaton, you knew my father for many years, is that right?" It is a careful question, not controversial at all, and very bland on the surface. It's a test, to see how Marcus will react. 

"We were in the same initiation class," he answers. I'm surprised: I thought they were about the same age, but I had no idea they'd joined the faction together.

"He was such an Erudite know-it-all," Marcus says, and he actually _chuckles_ at the memory. "He even wanted to iron his gray clothes." This is so bizarre. Tris as a shy Stiff and my father giggling into his bread like an Amity schoolgirl. Next I'll be mouthing off like a Candor.

"He always took care with his clothes," Tris murmurs fondly, and I begin to worry that she's getting off track. She brings the conversation back with her next statement, though. "But you know that, you worked together for so many years."

"Lot of years," Marcus agrees, his voice warm and sloppy, as if he is actually nostalgic. "Good man, Andrew Prior. Good family." He smiles warmly at Tris, and I realize that our made-up excuse for this dinner has actually been a real success. He's about to give his blessing to our courtship. 

So. Fucking. Bizarre.

"I know he was working on something big," Tris says wistfully, as if the thought has just occurred to her. 

"The biggest," Marcus says, nodding. He takes another piece of bread from the basket and coats it liberally with butter. I have to choke back a laugh as he takes a huge bite.

"Oh?" Tris asks, sipping from her water glass. 

Marcus leans forward. "He wanted to _show everyone_. The whole city."

This much, we already know. We know Andrew was leading the drive to make some sort of huge announcement. What we don't know is what he would have said. What was being announced?

"Show them what?" Tris asks. We are so close to knowing, so close I can almost feel Andrew's secret hovering over the table, a tangible thing.

Marcus frowns as if he's suddenly remembered something, his features comically exaggerated. "But it's a secret," he says slowly.

"You can tell me," Tris responds. "I'm Andrew's daughter, after all."

"No..." he says, and his forehead puckers with the effort of fighting off the peace serum. Despite everything, I'm impressed with his ability to resist. Even Tris couldn't do that. "Doesn't matter anyway. She stole the file. Gonna destroy it."

Now we're getting somewhere. _The file_ , he said. I say a silent prayer that he means a computer file, not a paper folder that could be torched and never recovered.

"Jeanine took it, I know," Tris says, commiserating with him. "And now you can't show them."

"Can't show it to everyone now," Marcus agrees. His voice is sad but I feel a thrill run through me at the words. He's just admitted that the stolen information was the subject of Andrew's announcement. "Probably already destroyed it." 

We agreed that Tris would do the talking, but I cannot hold myself back any longer. "Was there a backup?" I ask. If it's a computer file, there's always a backup. Marcus taught me that. 

He shrugs, looking resigned. "Prob'ly took that too." What catches my ear, though, is the word 'probably.' That means he doesn't _know_ whether it was stolen. The Erudite are clever, sure, but the plans we've found call for the actual theft to be carried out by traitor Dauntless, most of whom know nothing at all about computers. 

I can feel a bubble of hope growing inside my chest. It is a computer file, and the backup might still be there. Despite Marcus's resistance, he's given us valuable information tonight.

"That's too bad," Tris agrees, shooting me a look. "Would you like some coffee?"

Marcus makes a face. He considers coffee self-indulgent. "Tea?" he asks, and I have to smother another laugh. Maybe he just doesn't like coffee, and all this time he's lied and said it's some kind of principled stand rather than a matter of taste.

"I think we have tea," she says, and her voice has a soothing quality that might be appropriate for young children or frightened animals. "Let me get you a cup." 

With a quick motion, she picks up the bread basket and places it on top of the chicken, then carries both on the platter back into the kitchen.

"Nice girl," Marcus says to me as soon as she is gone, and then frowns. "She wasn't so nice before, though." 

I am reminded, vividly, of Tris herself saying _I'm not very nice, either,_ when she was under the effects of the same peace serum, dancing through the Amity orchards and wearing flowers in her hair. It's getting harder to hold back my hysterical laughter.

"I like her," I say shortly. 

"Good cook, too," he adds, and this time I do laugh. I can't help it. I'm sure Tris knows how to cook, having grown up in Abnegation, but I've never seen her actually do it. Besides, Uriah prepared this meal, and I know Marcus would never bless that courtship.

"Everything was delicious," I agree. 

"You shouldn't laugh," he says, trying to muster his old sternness through the haze of the peace serum. "'S important. Can't pick a girl only for her pretty face. Gotta eat dinner with her every day."

This stops my laughter. Is Marcus actually trying to dispense some kind of twisted fatherly wisdom? It's unsurprising, though, that he thinks I should marry a girl who can cook. It's exactly the kind of selfish thing he would say. As if a wife is nothing but a servant. As if I didn't cook his dinner for years after my mother left.

I push all this down and say simply, "Dauntless has a cafeteria."

"Right, Dauntless," he says, lapsing into silence with a frown on his face.

Tris comes back, carrying a steaming cup of tea. She sets it down in front of Marcus and takes her seat again.

"Not sure I understand it," Marcus says, the frown still on his face. "But if you two want my blessing, you have it." 

She reaches out and wraps her hand around mine beneath the table. "Thank you," she says.

I am silent. This is all too weird.

"Strange, though," Marcus says softly, echoing my thoughts. He looks up at us and I can see the struggle behind his eyes, as he fights against the effects of the serum. 

In that moment, I know without a doubt that we have made a grave mistake. We have underestimated Marcus. He will figure out what we have done, and he will come after us. 

No, not us. _Me._

My fingers clench involuntarily around Tris's, and I hold on tight. I only hope we can outrun him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Tris**

Dressed once again in all black, we slip out the back door of my parents' house, shutting the door quietly behind us. Inside, Marcus is fast asleep on the couch underneath one of my mother's handmade afghans while Zeke guards him, and Uriah and Christina stuff themselves with leftover chicken and vegetables. 

As soon as the door closes, Tobias wraps his arms around me and squeezes me so tightly that I can hardly breathe. My head is pressed against his chest, and I can hear his heartbeat thumping fast, like a rabbit's. His arms, usually so strong and sure, are shaking slightly.

I slide my hands around his ribcage and trace circles onto his back. Eventually, I feel his heartbeat begin to slow.

I pull back just far enough that I can cup his face in my hands and touch my forehead to his. "You did it," I tell him. 

His eyes slip shut and a small smile spreads across his face. "I think Uriah did it," he says. "It was his idea, after all."

"Turns out we make a pretty good team," I say, and his smile widens even more.

"I can't believe he actually gave you his blessing," Tobias mutters. "I never thought I'd hear that, in my whole life."

"He'll want it back in the morning." I laugh a little, thinking of how angry I was when I woke up in Amity after my own experience with the peace serum.

"Doesn't work that way." Tobias closes the inches between us and capturing my lips with his. 

We don't have much time, only a few minutes alone in the dark, and so this is a playful, teasing kiss. There is none of the searing passion or deep longing of our other kisses, no roving hands or hurtling toward completion. Tobias nips at my lip and then dances back, and I lift on my tiptoes to press a smacking kiss to his chin.

By the time the door opens, we are both laughing, our faces so close we keep bumping each other with our noses.

Christina watches us with her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. She shakes her head. "You ate the bread, didn't you?" she asks.

Tobias only laughs again, and I grin at her. I feel so happy, I don't even know anymore.

Uriah slips out the door a moment later and nods to us. "Let's go steal that backup," he says, and I see a flash of teeth as Tobias grins at him. 

Christina shakes her head at them and says, "Dauntless boys," but she's grinning, too. It's been too long since I've seen that kind of easy joy on her face.

Just as I'm thinking about Christina's renewed happiness, Tobias breaks the spell by handing me a gun. I nearly drop it. 

He must know what I'm thinking, because he leans close and wraps his big hands around my elbows. "It's not for attack, it's for protection," he says. "Be brave, Tris."

Tobias has always believed in my strength, my bravery -- even more than I do, at times. The gun in my hand feels heavy and cold and deadly. All of that is true, I know. But my friends need me. My city needs me. He needs me.

"Brave," I whisper against his lips, and although my hands are still shaking, I manage to tuck the gun under my waistband before stepping away.

We make our way to the train tracks and wait in silence for the familiar rumble. Tobias is eerily still, and Uriah keeps shifting on the balls of his feet and adjusting his gun. I share a look with Christina and eventually realize: we're standing around out in the open, with no cover and nowhere to hide. If any of the traitor patrols found us now, we'd have no choice but to fight. 

After several minutes pass, a headlight appears. In unison, we begin to jog along the tracks, picking up speed as the train hurtles toward us. When I pull myself inside the train car, I'm thankful to find it unoccupied.

The train rumbles beneath my feet, and Abnegation disappears from view. I look down at my hands, which are empty. Beside me, Uriah adjusts his gun again.

"What do you think it is?" he asks me in a low voice. We'd filled them in earlier, telling them everything we learned from Marcus. Jeanine definitely stole a computer file my dad planned to show the city, she wants to destroy it, and hopefully there's a backup. It wasn't as much as we'd hoped to get, but it was enough.

What kind of information is so dangerous that Jeanine would start a war to destroy it?

"It has to be something big," I say to Uriah. "Something we've never seen before. Maybe about the Divergent?" Jeanine is very interested in them --us-- and it's a topic we don't know much about. But that still doesn't explain why she would stoop to mass murder.

He nods, and opens his mouth to say something else. Before he can speak, Christina cuts him off. "Get ready, guys."

The train runs along a low embankment, and we leap from the door, running a few steps to maintain our footing. Christina stumbles and catches herself with one hand, then stops to brush the gravel out of her palm. 

I look around to get my bearings, and in the shadow of a crumbling building I think I see a flicker of movement. A moment later, the flicker solidifies into the shape of people. As soon as I see them, I know we're in trouble.

Three figures approach us, walking confidently in the middle of the street. Their black clothes identify them as Dauntless, but even in other colors I would recognize their muscular grace. There's not much light in the street, only a few floodlights and the glow of the moon, but it's enough to make out blue armbands wrapped around their black jackets.

Traitors.

"What are you doing out here?" one of them shouts. I glance at Tobias. His jaw is clenched and his spine is straight, and he looks very much like the cruel, intimidating instructor he was when we first met.

"Come with us and nobody has to get hurt," I hear, and then a muffled laugh. 

"Yeah, right," mutters Uriah under his breath. 

"On the count of three, run," Tobias murmurs. "One, two--"

"Surrender now and nobody has to get hurt!" Uriah yells as Christina and I break into a run. The sound of gunfire echoes off the abandoned buildings around us. When we reach the nearest alley, Tobias is only a couple steps behind us, but Uriah is still in the middle of the street. The brave idiot is intentionally drawing their fire until we're safe.

I bite my lip to keep from screaming as I see the traitors shooting at him. Christina's already kneeling by the corner of the building, holding her gun steady in both hands and firing rapidly toward the traitors.

There's only one thing left to do. Pushing away all thoughts of the simulation, and my mother, and Will, I think only of Uriah and my hands do not shake. He needs me to be strong now, and so I am. I grab the gun from the small of my back and stand above Christina, taking aim at the closest traitor, a dark-haired woman, and squeezing the trigger. 

It's not a kill shot; it's not meant to be. But my bullet hits her knee and she collapses, crying out in pain as she falls. She may be a traitor, but she's still Dauntless, so she doesn't drop her gun. She's immobilized, though. The guy with the shaved head goes down clutching his shoulder -- Christina's work, I assume. The third member of the patrol, a dark-skinned guy who's harder to spot in the low light, does the math and realizes that he has to let us go if he wants to save his friends.

We turn and run down the alley, with no destination or plan. 

Christina is the fastest, and she zips ahead, her feet quick on the pavement and her gun ready in her hand. Tobias falls into step beside me, his steps falling in time with my own. I click on the safety as I run and tuck the gun back into my waistband. I might need it again soon, but I can't bear to touch it unless absolutely necessary.

We make it five blocks before I slow to a jog and look behind me.

Uriah is there, no more than half a block behind us, but I can tell that something's wrong. His pace is slow, and getting slower all the time, and he's favoring one leg. His usually cheerful face is twisted up into a grimace. 

"You okay?" I ask, as he finally reaches me.

"I'll live," he says, which is hardly reassuring. "Need to stop for a minute, though."

Tobias looks back, watching me as I slip one arm around Uriah's back and he leans on my shoulder. "We need to get him somewhere safe," I say. 

He glances around quickly and comes to a conclusion. "This way."

Slower now, we make our way out of the alley and up a side street. There's less cover here, but I try not to think about what might happen if we are attacked. Hopefully the patrol we stopped is the only one in this area. 

Ahead, Tobias opens the door of what might have once been a restaurant or cafe. The big window in the front is boarded up, and the interior is dark. We follow him inside. It's so dark that I can hardly see, and I have to move slowly to keep from knocking Uriah into the walls. We walk through the front of the cafe, which is bare and dusty, and into the kitchen. Behind the kitchen, there is a kind of store room, lined with empty shelves.

Christina shuts the door behind us and I lower Uriah to the floor. Tobias flips a switch, flooding the room with light. There isn't much to this place, light or dark, but it's got power, which is something. At least it's hidden, with a door that locks and no windows. Secure.

I already know we're going to have to leave Uriah here and go on without him. 

Uriah knows it, too. I can see him looking around and assessing the space, coming to the same conclusions. It's not a warm bed and a full kitchen, but it's a decent spot. 

I kneel down next to Uriah and look at his leg. He's wearing black jeans, but one area of the fabric, between his knee and groin, is already stained a darker color. 

"Can you take off your pants?" I ask brusquely, trying not to be embarrassed. I'll cut the fabric if I need to, but it would be better to leave him with warm clothes.

"I know I'm irresistible," he jokes, but his voice is weak. 

Christina helps him slip them down off his hips, and then calmly drapes the bloodstained denim over his lap. Uriah is Dauntless born and raised, and he goes without underwear like most of the Dauntless men do. 

I'm blushing again, but I focus on his injury and my embarrassment fades quickly enough. The wound is close to the inner part of the thigh, more than halfway up. 

"Good news is, you haven't bled out yet, so it didn't hit the artery," Tobias says. I look up and see him sitting at Uriah's side, with one hand on his shoulder. 

"Good news is, they didn't hit the important stuff," Uriah says, adjusting the jeans over his lap, so none of us can possibly miss his meaning. "I won't have to depend on Zeke to carry on the family line."

I roll my eyes and lift up his leg to look at the back. To my relief, there's a matching wound on the back of the thigh, a little lower down. "You'll be fine," I tell him. "It went right through." He lets out an audible sigh of relief at the news.

I turn to ask Christina if she has a bandage, but she's already unzipping her sweatshirt. Underneath, she has on a tight-fitting black tank top, which she pulls over her head and hands to me. I tear it into strips and wrap them around Uriah's leg, binding the wound as securely as I can. 

"We need to get you back--" I start. This will do for now, but he'll need real medical care in the infirmary soon. The bullet is out, but he's lost blood and the wound could still get infected easily. 

"I'll take him," Christina interrupts, zipping her sweatshirt back up over her black bra. "You two go on, and as soon as it's light we'll head back." 

"Are you sure?" I ask, but it's the only solution. Uriah is in no condition to jump onto a train, and he can't walk the three or four miles back to Dauntless without help, either.

"Go," she says. "And make Jeanine pay."

Tobias whispers something to Uriah, and I give Christina a hug, and then we slip out of the cafe and back onto the street. 

He looks left and right, then turns and leads the way down the street. His footsteps are silent on the cracked pavement, and the only sound I hear is the safety of his gun clicking off. 

We creep through dark alleys, moving as quickly as we can. I can feel broken and cracked pavement under my feet, my steps shifting as I walk across gravel, shattered glass and discarded trash. I don't let myself worry about Uriah. He's strong, and the wound is not severe. Worrying will only be a distraction.

The Hub is so tall that it's impossible to really see it when you're close. Its enormous size requires a long view. But I can sense it looming over us a few blocks away when we spot the second patrol. 

Tobias shoots one arm out so quickly that I don't even see it happen, and I walk right into him. I open my mouth to say 'what the hell?' but he points silently toward the patrol and I swallow back my objections.

A standard Dauntless patrol is five to six guards, I remember from initiation. Like the last one, this is only three. The traitors don't have the resources of a united faction. And like the other patrol, they're walking down the middle of the street, talking and laughing in loud voices. I thought it was confidence the first time around, but now it seems like something else: cowardice. The loud stomp of their boots, the ringing echo of their laughter and their highly visible position in the middle of the street all serve as a warning to anyone in their way. 

They're supposed to be patrolling the city looking for trouble, but they won't surprise anyone this way. It was just bad luck that the other group spotted us jumping off the train.

We sink back into the shadows of the alley and watch them walk past, full of swagger and totally ineffective.

When the patrol is gone, we dash across Franklin Street toward the loading dock we accessed before. Then we slink around the side of the building, and into the employees' entrance. 

Everything is dark and quiet, but I don't let myself relax until the door closes silently behind us. Then I breathe out a long sigh and feel my shoulders drop.

"We're not done yet," Tobias whispers, but he hugs my shoulders with one arm and presses a kiss to my hair quickly before we begin climbing the stairs. 

As my boots pound the concrete stairs, I savor the lingering feel of his arm around me, the warmth of his hand on my bicep.

My father's office is on the eighth floor, but Tobias stops on the seventh. 

"We'll start here and work our way down," he says in a harsh whisper. "The control room is probably on a different floor from the offices. Hopefully that means they missed it during the attack."

We creep through the dark, abandoned halls. Although the floors are clear of gravel and broken glass, in other ways they are not so different from the alleyways outside: black tunnels filled with invisible obstacles and cast-off things. We can't turn on a light for fear of discovery, and moonlight doesn't penetrate far inside the building. But even without light, we must open every door and check every closet for the computer servers.

"They'll be keeping the room cold," Tobias tells me, before we begin searching. "So the servers don't get overheated. You'll see colored indicator lights and hear the fans making a low hum." It's not much to go on. A chilly room, colored lights and a strange humming noise. I almost feel like we're looking for a ghost.

There are no servers hiding on the seventh floor, and I don't see any ghosts either. There are only offices and papers and files, and the vague sense that someone will be here at any moment to finish the work left in neat stacks on the corner of every desk.

It's probably been untouched for weeks, since the people who worked here were dragged from their homes and executed at Jeanine's command. I guess the traitors found what they were looking for in my father's office upstairs and didn't bother to trash the entire office.

We move on to the sixth floor, and then the fifth. 

This level does not look like my father's office. There's no thick luxurious carpeting, no sparkling plate-glass windows. Instead, the floor is bare concrete and the walls are covered in peeling green paint, the same color as the hospital where I used to volunteer.

"This is it," Tobias says, about thirty seconds after we arrive on the floor. 

"It is?" I ask. "I think it's a lunch room." There are a half-dozen tables with mismatched chairs, and a large refrigerator and an ancient coffeemaker in the corner.

"This is a lunch room, but this floor is where we're going to find the control room," he says. "Copiers, file storage, wiring... They'll keep the servers down here, too."

I shrug, hoping he's right. We keep looking. 

One door holds a bathroom, the next a janitor's closet. A locker room. Office supplies. There's one more door at the end of the hall, and when I pull it open, a blast of cold air hits me in the face.

I gasp, and turn to say something to Tobias, but he's already there, stepping inside carefully with his blue eyes wide. 

The room is on the small side, maybe only eight feet square, but it's filled with electronic devices. They must be computers, but they look nothing like the simple terminals I used at school. Each one is as tall as I am, and about a foot wide. Within the gleaming black frames I can see dozens of little cards stacked one above the next, each covered with blinking lights. These must be what Tobias calls 'servers.'

I don't dare touch anything.

"How--" I start to ask, but I'm not even sure what I want to say. There are hundreds -- no, thousands of hard drives contained in this one little room, and every one looks the same to my untrained eyes. "Which one is it?"

He looks at me and shakes his head slowly, and my heart falls. He doesn't know, either. 

How are we ever going to find one file in all this data? And how will we recognize the one thing that's worth killing for?

I look around again, with a sigh. There has to be something here we can use.

"The good news," Tobias says, although he doesn't sound very happy about it, "is that nothing's damaged." I nod. Even I can see that everything in this room is neat and organized, in good working order. If Jeanine sent Dauntless soldiers to destroy the backups, they would have done it with crowbars, smashing every one of these circuits to crunchy little bits. 

"But the bad news--" 

I can't even let him finish. The bad news is obvious. We might search forever and not find what we need. I cut him off. "How are they organized?" I ask. "The servers. Are they assigned by faction?"

He shakes his head again. "Dauntless has their own, in the Pire. These are all for the Hub." 

There are a couple dozen servers in this room. I want to cry, but I'm afraid I might damage something with my tears. "So if it's not by faction--"

"Usually by date," Tobias says. "You start with one, and when it's full, add another one, and so on."

"So our file would be on..." I trail off, looking around the room. "The newest one?" 

He shakes his head. "Whatever it was, it had to exist before the attack, right?" 

How are we supposed to find this mystery file, if we don't know anything about it? How can we know how old it is, before we ever find it? It's a circular trap.

I think back to the conversation that I overheard in Amity between Marcus and Johanna. What was it he said? _A long time ago, the Abnegation were entrusted with some sensitive information._

Maybe we do know how old the file is.

It's a guess, a shot in the dark. But if this information dates all the way back to the time when our ancestors founded the city, then it would be-- "Try the oldest one," I say.

Tobias has to go get a small computer from one of the nearby storage areas and plug it into the server, which takes a few minutes. Icy air is blasting on me from the vents above the entire time, but I'm so nervous that I don't even think about waiting in the hall. 

When the screen finally flickers on, he scrolls back to the oldest item on the list, titled with an incomprehensible string of letters and numbers. 

"It's a video file," Tobias says softly. 

"Really?" Why would the oldest file stored in our government's computer be a video? Shouldn't it be the city's charter, or the faction manifestos or something?

There's only one way to find out. 

Tobias presses a button, and the video begins to play.

"My name is Amanda Ritter..." begins the woman on the screen. We sit in silence as she speaks and the images play across the screen in front of us. She tells us about the world outside the fence, a world full of violence and hatred, and the everyday people whose very nature had become twisted and cruel. I am transfixed, unable to look away even if I wanted to.

When she starts talking about the Divergent, I feel Tobias's fingers scrabbling for my own. Without looking away from the screen, I turn my hand over and clasp his hand, squeezing as tightly as I can. Onscreen, Amanda Ritter tells us that the Divergent are not freakish outliers, we are the key to the entire city. We are the key to helping the outside world regain what has been lost to devastation and destruction.

And when she tells us that it is time to unlock the gate and go out into the world, I know that this is what my parents wanted. They died to defend the idea that our city would go forth and heal a broken world. They were Abnegation to the end.

But Jeanine Matthews has been doing all she can to destroy this information, to squelch it and keep it from coming to light. Why? She wants to stamp out the Divergent because we are the key to opening the gates, the key to our freedom. She wants to keep us all inside the city, and under her power.

Jeanine sacrificed my parents just so she could maintain her own illusion of control. That's all it is, an illusion. Because if there is some larger organization that put us here, in this city, then they're the ones who are really pulling the strings. Jeanine is nothing but a child who declares herself queen of the schoolyard.

"The information in this video is to be restricted to those in government only," Amanda Ritter says, and I feel my blood begin to boil. All this time I thought I was fighting for the truth, but it's only another secret to keep.

"My name will be Edith Prior," she says, with a familiar-looking smile. "And there is much I am happy to forget."

The screen goes black.

Tobias looks at me, his eyes impossibly wide in his face. My fingers are still wrapped around his so tightly that I can hardly feel them anymore.

"I think we found it," he says finally.

I let out a long, shaky breath that ends in a laugh. If Abnegation's servers hide any secrets bigger than this, I'm not sure I can handle them.

"Tris..." he tells me. "People need to see this. Not just the faction leaders. Everyone."

I feel a fierce surge of love for him. 

"They do," I agree. "As soon as possible." Because every minute that we keep this to ourselves, we are in terrible danger.


	6. Chapter 6

**Tobias**

I make two copies of the file, and place the original drive carefully back into place. We wrap up the first copy and address it to Johanna Reyes in Amity, and drop it into the Hub's outgoing mail. There are a handful of other packages and a thick stack of letters waiting to go out in the weekly deliveries. Service has been sporadic since the attack, but hopefully our drive will be delivered eventually, if anything happens to us.

The sky is still dark when we leave the Hub, and it's hard to believe that only a few hours have passed since we were eating dinner with Marcus. 

Outside the door, we turn left instead of right, and head across the empty river toward Candor.

Jack Kang hates the loyal Dauntless now, for leaving Candor unguarded after he wanted to bow to Jeanine's demands. But Candor is dedicated to truth and honesty, and hopefully that will be enough. We have a secret to share, after all.

I hang back and let Tris lead the way this time. She moves quickly along the darkened streets, alert and watchful with her gun gripped in one hand. I love seeing her like this again, focused and confident, the same girl who jumped first. I adjust my grip on my own gun and keep moving.

It is a short walk to Candor, and we see no patrols. I wonder if the traitors are even running patrols after midnight, with their reduced numbers.

The Merciless Mart, Candor's headquarters, is not guarded. There is one older man sitting at the desk in the lobby, wearing black and white. His clothes match the black and white tile decorating the floor, walls and furniture, and his brown skin and hair seem strangely out of place in the colorless room.

He sits up straight when he sees two armed Dauntless enter the room, and one of his hands disappears under the edge of the desk for a moment. I think he might have pushed a warning button, but no sirens go off. 

"We're here to see one of your members," Tris says, smiling politely at him as though she's not holding a gun. "Maria Glass."

"And your names?" he asks nervously. There is a ledger on the desk with a pen laying beside it. I hold onto my gun tightly and make no move to fill it out.

"Beatrice Prior and Tobias Eaton, of Dauntless," Tris says, her voice hard and proud. These are powerful names. We both have other names, inconspicuous ones, but now is not the time to hold anything back.

Perhaps the Candor man appreciates her honesty. He pulls the ledger toward him and fills in our names with a slightly shaking hand. 

"And your business?" he asks. This guy can't possibly stop us alone, and he knows it. But every minute we stand here, we are exposed. If he's called for backup, we would be at their mercy in a moment.

I frown at him and open my mouth to ask if this is relevant, but Tris cuts me off. "We have information for the news service," she says. Her smile is a little tighter this time. "May we go up?"

At the words 'news service,' the guard's expression changes, and I realize that we're thinking like Dauntless, trying to overwhelm their defenses. For the Candor, their news service is the embodiment of all their ideals, and it must be their top priority, ranking even above security. This seems insane to me, but then I'm better at keeping secrets than revealing them.

"The news service is right through there," he says, and motions to a pair of double doors at the end of the lobby. "I'll call Ms. Glass and let her know you're here."

We walk across the black marble floor, our steps echoing loudly off the walls, and I glance back at the guard. He's speaking to someone on the phone, just as he said he would.

Through the double doors there's another large open room, almost as big as the lobby. I vaguely remember this place from a school trip. One half is full of desks, each one with a computer and phone, and stacks of paper files. The other half, visible behind a thick glass partition, is dominated by an enormous machine: the printing press.

Christina's mom appears a minute later, wearing a loose white sweater over what appears to be black and white plaid pajama pants. We must have woken her from a sound sleep, but she doesn't seem resentful in the least. She wears her hair short, in tight natural curls close to her head.

"I don't believe we've been formally introduced." She holds out a hand to shake. "Maria Glass."

"Four," I say, and she gives me a firm handshake. "We met on visiting day. I was Christina's initiation instructor." 

"Of course." She is totally matter of fact as she agrees. "I'm sorry for not recognizing you. My mistake." I smile. The Candor are not known for being charming, but that's what she is. I only wish I could so easily admit my own mistakes.

Tris shakes her hand as well, and then pauses. 

"You have news for publication?" Maria raises her eyebrows and smiles expectantly. I'm not quite sure how to begin, and Tris must not be either, because she bites her lip instead of speaking. "Is Christina all right?" Maria asks when we don't respond.

"She's fine," Tris assures her quickly, and Maria relaxes. 

"Our news is... sensitive," I say finally. "Dangerous."

"The truth often is," Maria says, and flashes a smile the exact same shape as Christina's. It occurs to me that embracing total honesty requires a special kind of bravery. We are not so different, Candor and Dauntless.

As soon as that thought has formed in my mind, the double doors fly open with a loud bang. Jack Kang enters the room, followed by two men carrying long-barreled rifles. For a second I think they're Dauntless, because only the Dauntless carry guns. But their faces aren't familiar, and the way they stand betrays a lack of training with their weapons. They're just armed Candor.

"What are you two doing here?" Jack demands. 

"We have news for publication," I tell him as calmly as I can. 

"You had your chance to build an alliance here," Jack says angrily. "You chose to leave us defenseless." 

"We chose to return home and rebuild our faction." Jack wanted to turn us over to Jeanine to save his own skin. Not exactly a warm welcome. I don't point that out, but maybe I should.

"And now you've come crawling back because you need our help?" Jack asks. "You're not welcome here." The guards behind him shift awkwardly, as if uncomfortable. The training instructor in me has to struggle not to roll my eyes. Do they even know how to fire those guns? 

"You going to throw us out?" I cross my arms over my chest and flex my muscles. It may be a childish move, but I don't care.

Tris lets out an exasperated sigh and steps between us. "We have information that the people of this city need to see," she says. "So we came to the news service. That's all." She's got her hands on her hips and her chin high in the air, looking up at Jack Kang with a challenging expression on her face. 

Jack just scoffs at her. "We're not interested in your wild allegations," he says. "The function of a legitimate press is not to air your grudges and stir up trouble."

I'm ready to punch him in the face. Jack is a tall man, but he looks like he's never seen the inside of a training room. I could have him crying for mercy in thirty seconds. Only the presence of untrained idiots with loaded weapons makes me think twice.

Somehow, Tris manages to stay calm. "Maria," she says. "Have you seen any evidence of wild allegations or personal grudges?"

"Frankly, I haven't seen anything at all," Maria says. A tiny smile twitches at the side of her mouth.

"Why don't we show you our news," Tris says, looking between Jack and Maria. "And you can decide if it's something you'd be interested in publishing."

I should've thought of that.

"We're not interested--" Jack starts to say, but Maria cuts him off. 

"That does seem like the simplest way to get to the truth of the matter," she says. "Wouldn't you agree, Jack?" The word 'truth' appears to snap him out of his anger at us, and he nods, motioning to a nearby chair.

Instead of sitting, though, Tris pulls the hard drive out of her pocket and hands it to Maria. "We found this video in my father's Faction Council files," she says. "They were going to make an announcement next week." Two simple facts, both technically true. Put together, the implication is something that we don't know for sure. I'm impressed at how well Tris can lie to the head of Candor. 

"Please, sit," Jack says, and so we take up chairs. The guards hover over us, holding their rifles like clubs. I glance at Tris and roll my eyes, and she smothers a smile. They haven't even disarmed us. Amateurs.

Maria plugs the hard drive into a nearby computer and swivels the monitor so that we can all watch.

"You're gonna want to see this," I tell the guards. They don't respond, but I see them sneaking glances toward the monitor anyway.

I know what's coming this time, but the video is no easier to watch the second time around. Watching the face of the woman who named herself Edith Prior, I can see a shadow of familiar features there. There is a resemblance to Tris in her face, and even more so to Caleb. 

When she says that the video is restricted to government, Jack actually growls. The two guards are openly watching the screen now, their gun barrels drooping toward the floor. We could get up and walk out and they'd never notice.

When the video clicks off, Jack rounds on us. "You found this in Abnegation?" he demands.

I decide to come clean with him. If he's going to antagonize Jeanine, he should know what he's getting himself into. "In the Hub," I say. "Jeanine stole a copy during the simulation attack, and she wants to suppress it."

"Suppress a truth this powerful?" Jack asks, half to himself. The guards are shaking their heads and muttering.

Maria leans back on the desk and looks at us steadily. "I can't print a news story about this," she says simply. 

"But this is the--" Tris begins to protest.

Maria holds up a hand to quiet her. "The written word won't do this justice," she says. "We're going to need a citywide broadcast."

* * *

**Tris**

I was certain Jack Kang would have us arrested, or that Tobias would throw a punch and get himself shot. Instead, Jack looks deeply shaken. "Our government has done a great disservice by keeping this hidden all these years," he says to us. "It took a lot of courage to bring this to us. Thank you for your honesty."

I remember how the Candor said this to us after our sessions with the truth serum and shiver slightly, although I know Jack means it as a compliment.

"We'll make the broadcast first thing in the morning," he tells Maria, before turning on his heel and walking toward the door. The guards have to scramble to keep up. Right at the door he stops and looks back. "City-wide. Use my authorization."

She nods, already reaching for the phone as the door slams shut behind him. She makes a couple of calls, asking for a 'network transmission,' whatever that is, and outdoor screens. She doesn't say what will be broadcast or explain the situation to anyone.

I am speechless as I watch her take care of everything in a matter of minutes.

"How do you-- I mean... do you do this a lot?" I ask. 

"Every faction has their specialty," she replies. "If I needed an armed guard, I'd go to Dauntless. For a good meal, Amity. You need to expose a secret. You came to the right place."

I'm not sure she's answered my question. My expression must give away my thoughts, because Maria gives me a gentle smile. Even though she looks nothing like her, somehow she reminds me of my own mother in this moment.

"Tris, this is what we do here," she says. "We tell the truth, even when other people wish we wouldn't. Perhaps especially then. And this? This is the biggest truth of all. So yes, we know how to handle a broadcast of this nature. Thank you for bringing it to me. I'm honored to share this news with the entire city."

I feel the tension in my shoulders ease a little bit, and I manage to return her smile. "Thank you," I say, and repeat Jack's words back to her. "Thank you for your honesty."

She nods, and turns back to her work, typing one-handed on the computer keyboard as she uploads the video and makes phone calls with her other hand. 

"All right," Maria says eventually, setting down the phone and dusting off her palms. "I don't know about you two, but I could use a shower and a nap before the shit hits the fan."

I shrug. I've been running through the city all night long, but I'm too nervous to rest. 

Tobias says something in agreement, and Maria leads us upstairs to her apartment. I watch her feet move along the hallway and realize that she is still wearing her pajamas, a soft fabric with a black and white plaid. Part of me feels guilty for waking her up in the middle of the night, but I think of the passion in her voice when she said _This is the biggest truth of all_ , and know it was the right thing to do.

Inside the apartment, Maria shuffles off to bed. "Try to get some sleep," she mumbles. "Gonna be a long day tomorrow."

Tobias collapses onto the couch and pats the cushion next to him. After a moment, I sit down beside him, but I can't relax. My leg jiggles, my foot bounces, and my stomach is tied up in knots. All I can think is that something is bound to go horribly wrong.

He wraps his arm around my shoulder, but when I lean against him I can feel that he's jittery, too. Sitting still when I'm this stressed out is the worst kind of torture. 

Eventually I give up and start pacing. It doesn't make the morning arrive any faster, but at least it feels like I'm doing something.

"I hate waiting," Tobias says, resting his head in his hands. 

Neither one of us is very patient. 

We pass the hours this way, pacing and nervous, jumping at the slightest noise. Tobias unloads and reloads his gun, taking it apart and cleaning it with a rag he finds underneath Maria's kitchen sink. I make us sandwiches that we're too anxious to eat.

Sleep is not an option. 

When the sky begins to lighten, I move to the window and look outside. Beyond the glass, I can see the city come into view. I've lived with these towers every day of my life, but it feels like I've never seen them as clearly as I do today. The buildings are crumbling and battered now, missing windows and walls, but it's obvious they were once magnificent. 

I used to wonder who built this amazing place, and what made them leave. Now, I suppose I have my answer. The city was destroyed by the same violence that ripped our entire country apart, the conflict that my ancestor showed us in her message. But even after everything, this city has survived to become a haven. Edith Prior and her people came here to heal, to live and grow and repair the damage done by war.

"You all right?" Tobias asks, as he steps up to the windowsill next to me. I can see his reflection in the glass, superimposed above the skyline, and it is as though the city itself is returning my gaze through his dark eyes.

"This is what my parents died for," I tell him. My eyes are stinging, and I let the tears roll down my cheeks. 

"They believed in this," Tobias says, his voice taking on an urgent note. "But they died for you, Tris. So you could live."

His hand grips the windowsill only a few inches from mine. I reach across the distance between us and wrap my fingers around his palm, holding on tightly. 

Outside, the sun rises over the horizon. The first rays reach only the highest point, reflecting off the top of the Hub, and leaving the rest of the city in shadow. Soon enough, though, the shadows recede and sunlight spreads. I can see every broken building illuminated, every crumbled brick and shattered window glowing with brilliant, golden light.

The damage will always be a part of this city. But right now, it does not feel like the most important part. 

Once Maria and her younger daughter Sofia, Christina's sister, are awake, we take turns in the shower and dress again in our clothes from the night before. Together, the four of us go down to the dining hall for breakfast. 

Our black clothes attract some attention when we walk in, but nothing worse than a few comments and dirty looks, so we settle down on a bench. The place is buzzing with activity, filled with eager talk and debate.

"Busy morning," Tobias says.

Sofia laughs in response. "Everyone's talking about some kind of big news broadcast," she says. "No one wants to miss it."

I'm surprised, but I know I shouldn't be. Of course word travels fast in Candor. Those two guards could have told the entire faction by now.

Maria brings us a plate of scrambled eggs and toast, and four big cups of coffee. Tobias takes a gulp from his cup and then lets out a sigh, as if he's been reunited with a long-lost friend. I wrap my hands around my mug and let the heat seep into my palms, calming my frazzled nerves.

As we eat, the dining hall fills with people. Professionals in sleek white blazers, young children in black jeans and rumpled white t-shirts, elderly men and women whose white hair blends perfectly with their white sweaters. 

By the time the screens flicker to life, the tables are completely full and more people are standing around the room in clumps, shifting eagerly for a view of the announcement.

"This is being transmitted to all the factions," Maria leans across the table to tell us. "And outdoor screens for the Factionless as well."

"All the factions?" I repeat. "Even--"

"Even Erudite," she says, nodding. There is a satisfied smile on her face. "We haven't alerted them about a special broadcast, but the screens are in their library, so they can't miss it."

"Your attention please," a voice calls, and the room falls to a hush immediately. I look around to see Jack standing beside the largest screen, at the front of the room. There are dark circles under his eyes, as if he hasn't slept, either.

"Our friends from Dauntless have brought us important news." He indicates Tobias and me with one hand, and every head swivels to look at us. I am so surprised that I can't even be embarrassed at the attention. _Our friends?_

My thoughts must be evident, because Maria leans across the table toward me again. "The truth goes a long way around here," she says with a soft smile. 

"This information has been suppressed for far too long," Jack says, and an angry murmur rises up out of the audience. He waits until it has passed to continue speaking. "But it takes great courage to embrace the truth, and today we--"

Behind him, images of death and destruction begin to flash across the screen. I hear shocked gasps from around me, but no one speaks. Jack falls silent and turns to watch.

I find Tobias's hand and grip it for reassurance. This is the third time I have seen Edith Prior deliver her message, and watching it is still horrible.

When she says, "The information in this video is to be restricted to those in government only," I hear another angry murmur sweep through the audience. Someone in the back yells, "Truth will out!" and there is a brief cheer.

When the video ends, there is a moment of shocked silence. Then the room erupts into noise, as hundreds of Candor speak at once. It sounds like every single person in the room is attempting to share their thoughts with everyone else, all at the same time.

I look around at their impassioned faces, everyone looking excited and horrified and skeptical and angry. Each face holds a different expression, a different opinion, but there is a kind of energy that unites them all. Every person in the room is full of fire.

Beside me, Tobias's dark eyes are glowing with the same fire. It is the passion of knowledge, of truth, of honesty. 

He's so beautiful that for a moment, I cannot look away.

I draw in a deep breath and let it go, feeling my body finally release the weight it has been carrying. All around me, the voices of the Candor sound loudly and quickly, like a hundred drums beating in concert. Realization creeps over me slowly and faintly, then stronger and more quickly until I am certain.

The secret is out. The truth my parents fought for has been revealed. The knowledge Jeanine wanted to destroy is forever free, flying across the city like a bird released from its cage. 

"We did it!" I say to Tobias, pressing my lips to his ear so that I can be heard over the din. 

"The truth will out," he says softly, his breath tickling my neck and sending shivers across my skin. 

Heat floods through my body and I don't care who is watching or how many people are around us, I turn my head and capture his lips with mine, kissing him hard.


	7. Chapter 7

**Tobias**

When we leave Candor, chased by a thousand choruses of "Thank you for your honesty," we go hand in hand.

Tris is laughing and smiling and there is a glow of happiness surrounding her that's irresistible to me. I can feel the force of her kiss lingering on my lips, pressed into my skin like a tattoo.

Plenty of problems are unresolved. Uriah is still injured, Evelyn is still scheming, Dauntless is still divided. Marcus will be angry when he learns what we have done, and Jeanine will be furious. 

But for right now, we are victorious. 

Jeanine demanded surrender, but we refused to bow down to fear and intimidation. Instead, we used Erudite's own tools to figure out what scared her most -- the truth -- and make it into a weapon.

"I love you," I say, leaning over as we walk to press a quick kiss to the top of her head. And then, because it feels as though we have confronted absolutely everything that has been pushing us apart, "No more secrets."

She stiffens slightly and I feel a momentary stab of panic flood through me. Is there something else she's been keeping from me? 

When I glance at her, she meets my eyes, biting her lip. "Did you-- do you still want to leave Dauntless?" she asks softly. "Is that -- where do we go from here?"

I can remember a time when leaving was the only future I could see for myself -- cutting all ties to my corrupt faction and going out into the world alone. I'd planned to rely only on myself, to become a hermit in some forgotten corner of the city. A faction of one. But that idea holds no appeal now, and it hasn't for a long time. 

"Not anymore," I tell her honestly. "I go where you go." It is a promise.

She grins and pulls me by the hand, dragging me forward. Feet pounding, hearts pumping, we pace each other as we run to meet the approaching train. When we leap onboard, it feels like flying.

The floors rattle beneath my feet, and I hold on to the bar overhead with one hand, wrapping my other arm around Tris's waist. She presses up against me, and we are a perfect fit.

"No more secrets," she says, and that is a promise, too.

* * *

**Tris**

Back at Dauntless, it seems like everyone is crowded into the Pit, talking seriously in small groups. They must have seen the video, too. At first, I think it's strange to see a gathering here without laughter or alcohol, but then I realize that people are passing bottles of dark liquor around. 

When they see us, a cheer goes up from the crowd. I wonder how they knew we were behind the broadcast, but then I spot Christina and Uriah near the front. Uriah's leaning on a crutch, talking to Zeke and Shauna in her wheelchair, but he grins and flashes us a thumbs-up. Christina beckons us over, but I shake my head and signal to her that I just want to sleep.

Inside the elevator, Tobias stands beside me and holds my hand loosely, rubbing his thumb back and forth across my knuckles. His skin is warm and rough with calluses, and he smells like rain and metal and something dark and achingly familiar.

I feel a pang of want inside my chest. Like the first time I fired a gun, the force of it reverberates through my limbs so hard that it nearly knocks me over.

"Are you all right?" Tobias glances at me, his eyebrows knitted up in concern. 

I smile up at him and give his hand a squeeze. "Better," I say, and it's true. For too long, there has been a wall between us. But piece by piece, brick by brick, we have revealed our secrets to one another and confronted our fears. I know without a doubt that we are stronger together than we ever were as two separate people. The barrier has been dismantled, and finally, there is nothing standing in our way.

There is only one more fear that I have to face, and I know I'm ready for it.

The elevator doors open with a ding, and we walk down the hall to Tobias's apartment. Inside, I pull him with me over to the bed.

He smiles at me, his blue eyes warm and soft, and brushes a hand over my hair. It's tender in a way that I rarely get to see Tobias, and I decide that I like this calm, happy side of him.

I lean forward and suck his full bottom lip into my mouth, first licking and then biting down gently before I pull away to the middle of the bed. 

Laughing, he chases me, climbing onto the bed and pulling me to him for more kisses, alternating between soft and playful.

I know what I want, but I don't know how to say it. Instead, I roll onto my back and pull him on top of me, so that he's pressing me down into the mattress. Then I pull back from the kiss and look him in the eye.

When I went through my fear landscape, the very idea of being with him like this filled me with nervous panic. But now I just feel a sense of warmth and affection for Tobias, coupled with a deep hunger. We have been through so much together that what used to be frightening is now a milestone I'm ready to embrace.

As soon as I can say the words.

"Tris?" he asks, pressing his forehead to mine. His breath tickles my lips.

Be brave, I tell myself.

"I want--" I start, but at the last second I can't force myself to be clinical. "I want you."

"Anything," he promises, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through my body and down to the wetness between my thighs. I wiggle a little and press up against him, seeking friction, and he bites his lip, but I'm not sure he understands fully what I'm suggesting.

"Do you--" I break off, gasping a little. "Do you have protection?" 

Tobias is suddenly and totally still. "Are you sure, Tris?" His voice breaks a little when he says my name, and I remember that this will be his first time, too. "Because we can wait--"

I know he's in no hurry, and it's not only for my sake. Tobias was raised in Abnegation just like I was, raised to believe that a single touch carries meaning, and that sex for pleasure is self-indulgent. For the Abnegation, sex is something that happens between husband and wife, in order to conceive children and strengthen the bond of marriage.

I have always been too selfish for Abnegation.

Tobias's muscles strain against the thin fabric of his t-shirt, and black tendrils of ink poke out from beneath his collar, trailing up his neck. His hair is longer now, falling into his face in the Dauntless style, and his eyes are dark magnets drawing me in. His tongue darts out and licks his full bottom lip.

_Sure_ doesn't even begin to cover it.

"I'm ready if you are," I tell him.

His teeth are white against his tan skin, and his smile is wide. "For you?" he asks. "Always." He kisses me deeply, his tongue sweeping inside my mouth. Then he pulls away and rummages around in the table next to the bed. I'm cold and a little embarrassed without the heat of his body to warm me.

He pulls a small foil packet from the drawer and sets it on top of the table, and then we're kissing again. 

I let my hands roam over his back, down over his shirt and then back up, along bare skin, tracing the contours of his muscles and the ridges of his scars. 

I'm still wearing the same simple black shirt that I put on to hunt for the Hub's server rooms. Tobias grasps the hem and pulls it off over my head, exposing my bra. Before I can feel embarrassed, he's kissing his way down my neck and along my collarbone to the ravens tattooed there, and then across my chest. His face is rough with stubble and it scratches my skin, leaving tiny, sharp points of pleasure in his wake.

Tugging my bra aside, he wraps his lips around my nipple. The warm, wet pull of his kiss feels so good that I arch my back and push upward into his mouth, letting out a grunt of satisfaction. He laughs a little against my skin and that, too, sends vibrations across my entire body. 

When he slips his fingers inside my underpants and begins rubbing my clit with one hand, I hurriedly unzip my pants and push all my clothes down and away. I just want to give him more room, more skin, more of me. 

He must understand, because a moment later his fingers are dipping inside me, thrusting firmly in that way I have quickly learned to love. I can feel him slipping in and out, caressing the places deep inside me where my need is greatest. I rock my hips up against his hand, matching his rhythm stroke for stroke, pleasure driving me onward. He angles his arm so that the heel of his hand presses against my clit, and even though I want so much more than only his hands on me, I can feel myself hurtling toward the edge.

Murmuring encouragement against my skin, he doesn't let up even for one second. His hands, his mouth, his arms, his body, his low voice are pushing me onward, closer and closer-- and then he looks up at me, his eyes as dark as night and full of the same need that devours me. 

My back arches up off the bed as I come, shaking and panting and calling for him.

He kisses me gently, giving me a moment to recover, and then pulls his shirt off over his head. 

"How are you still dressed?" I whisper, my heart still thudding loudly in my chest. 

"I wanted to take care of you first," he says, standing by the bed as he unbuttons his jeans. He bends down to push them off and when he stands up again, his hard length stands away from his body, pointing at me.

I watch, unable to tear my eyes away, as he opens the package and rolls the condom onto his erection with uncertain hands. It's a lot bigger than his fingers, and I hardly know whether to feel excited or concerned. Will it even fit? I bite my lip to hold back a laugh at the thought.

Then Tobias is beside me again, kissing my lips and running his hands gently across my bare skin, and I forget to be nervous. I can feel his love for me in that kiss and his desire, too. The certainty that I felt before returns in a rush, and I part my legs and wrap my arms around him as he sinks into me.

My body is wet and relaxed from my climax, but his dick is so much bigger than his fingers that it feels strange inside me at first. Strange and unimaginably good at the same time, but there's also a little pinch of pain. I knew, logically, that it would hurt the first time, but I didn't expect the pain and pleasure to be mixed together all at once like this.

I whimper a little, and Tobias stills. "Okay?" he asks, his voice rough. When I look up, there are beads of sweat all across his forehead, and I think, _did I do that?_

"Yeah," I breathe out. "Yeah, just-- kiss me?"

He does, pressing his lips to mine in a kiss that's both deliberately gentle and also somewhat awkward, the way our bodies fit together a new and unfamiliar thing for both of us. 

After a minute, the sharpness inside passes and I press my hips up toward him again. Breaking the kiss, he pulls back his hips and then thrusts into me again, slowly. 

I whimper as he moves, but this time when he pauses, I urge him onward with my hands and my body. I'm a little sore at first, but he feels so good inside me, filling me up in a way that I never even knew I needed before, that soon enough the thrill of his touch overtakes the small amount of pain.

Pleasure rises quickly within me, and soon enough Tobias snakes one hand between us and presses his thumb to my clit. There's not much room to move between our rising and falling hips and his knuckles bump against my pelvic bone, but I can feel myself getting close anyway and I concentrate, reaching for completion. I am almost there-- almost-- and then my body begins to shake and quiver and I am coming apart around him, and even the thought of it is enough to drive the chain reaction of completion farther than I've ever been before.

It is only seconds later that Tobias groans out my name, so loudly that I'm sure the neighbors will hear. I can feel him pulsing inside me, which is another new and strange experience, and then his arms collapse and his full weight is pressing down on me for a couple of seconds until he rolls to the side.

He kisses my hair and I let my lungs fill up again and we lie on the bed without talking for a minute, maybe two. My skin is sweaty and cool, and it feels good after all that heat.

"Where do we go from here?" he asks finally.

I stretch my arms over my head and arch my back, enjoying the languid feel of my muscles and the appreciation in his hooded eyes. "Well, I definitely want to do that again." There's a twinge of pain at the juncture of my thighs that makes me add, "maybe in a day or two."

He gives me a soft smile. "That can be arranged," he says. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close. "And then?"

I don't know the answer, but I think that's okay for now. "We'll figure it out together."


End file.
